Breathe: Book II
by tbka
Summary: A Witch cannot die. When Elphaba finds herself inexplicably alive after her deadly melting she is determined to not let her life spin down the same despairing circle as before. But when someone who is supposed to be dead turns up alive how will she cope?
1. Prologue

_**Summary: **They say a Witch cannot die. When Elphaba Thropp finds herself inexplicably alive after her deadly melting by the hands of young Dorothy Gale she is determined to not let her life spin down the same despairing circle as before. But when someone who is supposed to be dead, just like her, turns up alive how will she cope? And when everyone has moved on but her how will she survive? The world is cruel but this time the wounded woman that is Elphaba Thropp is determined to find her happiness, no matter the cost.  
_

_**Genre: **Romance/Drama_

_**Rating: **T_

_**Author's Note: **This is a story in the every going Wicked serious I have apparently begun. It is the third in the series (with more planned, because I simply love Wicked too much to end this serious):_

Loathing: The True Story Behind the Friendship of the Witches of Oz  
Breathe - Book I: Of the Emerald City  
Breathe - Book II: Of the Journey Back

_Reading the first two stories is not really necessary as I've tried to make each story a separate story in its own regard but I do reference events in both of the previous stories but hopefully you can enjoy this story without having to read the first two.  
_

_As always any similarities to the fanfictions __"Black & White__" and "A Time for Rain" by __"__TheWitch'sCat__" are purely coincidental and due only to the fact that those fanfics are absolutely stunningly amazing and I recommend you go read them right now! I also don't intend any plagiarism of either TheWitch'sCat nor Gregory Maguire and this is all in good fun. Enjoy.  
_

_--_

**Breathe  
Book II: Of the Journey Back  
**

--

_The last thing she remembered was the very vague feeling of… _something_… in her abdomen, in her body – growing; and it scared her._

--

**Prologue: **

Was Liir her son? She didn't know. She couldn't know. If she knew it would be all the more painful to cast him aside like she did. If she knew it would be all the more painful to look at him. After all, his resemblance to Fiyero was hard to ignore, even shrouded in the fat of children as he was. He had that same look to him. And his eyes. They made the Witch shiver when she saw them. They made her heart constrict and the air catch in her throat. So she stopped looking because it was easier that way.

But when that icicle fell, when it pierced through the poor skull of the little bastard of a child Manek, she felt it was supposed to be some sign. It had, after all, been her who had magicked the icicle to fall – and she knew that – but she refused to believe it. She wasn't a murderer, she _couldn't_ be a murderer. Not anymore. She had killed enough by accident in the Emerald City, under the guise of the revolution's work, she refused to accept that she had done it now on purpose. Even if it was for revenge. Revenge was dangerous, revenge was dirty, and revenge only brought more pain.

So when she left to visit her sister she didn't say goodbye to anyone, because it hurt too much to say goodbye. She just mounted her broom and disappeared – like she had always told Fiyero she would. And she flew too long, and she flew too hard, and her head ached with the effort and the wind, and she was cold. But she did not stop until she was there, standing in the backyard of the house in Munchkinland, where her sister lived.

Nessa was not surprised to see her. And they talked for small snippets during the few days she was there. For the time of her visit she spoke with her father only once, and it left her bitter and terribly furious. So she avoided him and did not even bother to say goodbye when she left. She felt no better after the visit than she had before.

When she returned to the castle of Kiamo Ko in the Vinkus she found it deathly still. Only Nanny remained, and Chistery and her other familiars, and the air itself seemed thick with accusations. Nanny told the story and the Witch was furious at herself for allowing such a disaster.

She allowed herself to feel some measure of happiness when Liir returned from wherever he had been – proving that he had not been taken with everyone else.

Seven years, for seven longs years she tried to get Sarima and her family back. Seven years of useless plotting and pitiful plans. Seven years of creating a band of winged-monkeys. Seven years of anguish and guilt until the letter from Shell arrived.

Nessarose was dead.

The Witch left Kiamo Ko on her broom, and when she arrived at her sister's old home she found her father. He was old, and failing of health, and sitting unmoving in his room. She kneeled down beside him and she knew that his vision was nearly gone because he didn't recognize her immediately. When he finally did he scowled. "What are you doing here?" he snapped out, except his voice had lost its strength and the power he had always had over her seemed to be slipping away.

"Nessie's dead," she replied; far too calmly. "And I remember I used to love her once, when I still could love, so I came to pay my respects as any sister should."

"Get out of my sight you sorceress failure!"

She didn't flinch at his words, they didn't sting her like they used to. She was beyond that, she had come to accept that Frex would never love her; would never be her father. She had tried and tried and _tried_ to make him love her, make him accept her, but she was tired of trying. She was tired of everything. She was tired of living her life according to others. She was tired of only doing what she thought was right for the world and not her. She was just… tired. So she left then, and walked the house alone.

She felt something welling up inside of her. Was it grief? She didn't know. She couldn't tell. She spent a few days there; sleeping little and remembering far too much. Her unexpected meeting with Glinda had shocked her slightly. And those shoes – Nessa had promised them to her! – but they were gone now. That wretched Glinda had given them off to that wretched Dorothy girl. She felt anger at that, and it startled her, but she did not fight it. She was angry at Glinda, and the love she had always held for that bubbly blonde roommate of hers seemed to have faded away with time. She wondered why but did not dwell on it. It took too much effort to wonder why, too much concentration. She didn't have the strength within her to care anymore – she was beyond caring. Caring hurt and she didn't want to hurt anymore.

When the funeral was over and she had said her due to her father she found herself in negotiations with the Wizard himself. But he would not listen, and there was little she could do, and the truth about Fiyero's death was spoken. The Wizard had killed him, and everyone from Sarima's family except Nor. And it was all too much for the Witch to bear.

So she killed Madame Morrible – but the old Headmistress was already dead before she bludgeoned her so she hadn't _really_ killed her. She still wasn't a murderer. She felt the need to tell someone but she refused to go to Glinda because she was still angry at her over her sister's shoes, and still didn't want to get her old friend tangled up in her disaster, danger of a life. So she went to Avaric – who was still an asshole that could hardly remember her name – not caring if he got killed because he was seen with her. And she got drunk, and shared a philosophical conversation with people she didn't know. She lost track of time and her mind became fogged up with the alcohol and she later wondered, vaguely, if they had had sex. She couldn't say she would be surprised if they did – after all, he had raped her far too many times for her to count anymore.

There was something with Boq, she remembered that later, but she couldn't say what. The alcohol still had its grip on her when she had met him but she remembered that she had scared him somewhat. She hadn't meant to but she wasn't surprised. She had probably looked like some drunken, deranged animal about to go on an uncontrollable killing spree. Sometimes she felt like it – just killing those around her. She wondered if it would give her some peace, to cause pain to others; to hurt others like she had been hurt.

Then there was the clock of the time dragon. And it was all too much to comprehend because she had still been drunk. But it had implied that the Wizard – _the Wizard! _– of all people was her real father. It disgusted her and she refused to believe it. Adding it to the pile of memories she kept locked in her mind.

She had waited fifteen years and been five minutes too late to exact her revenge on Madame Morrible. She had waited seven years only to find that she could not save Sarima and her family and that her last chance at forgiveness was lost.

There was only Kiamo Ko. And it was far too large, and far too empty, and the air stank of her failures. But she had nothing else, nothing more, nothing less, and the guilt and pain settled in the pit of her stomach to forever stay. It balled up inside of her and would not be willed away.

And it was all for nothing, she realized, when the water was upon her.

Dorothy. Dorothy, the wretched girl that had killed her sister and then stole away the shoes meant for her! Dorothy, the wretched girl who had begged for the very forgiveness that the Witch had spent so long striving for! It was an unbearable cruel twist of fate that was more painful than she could have ever imagined.

But even as the water brought her pain, then numbness, the words came in a hushed whisper from her mouth. A spell, from the Grimmerie, that she could not recall ever understanding, was uttered from her mouth. And then there was nothing.

It became a celebrated event; the death of the Wicked Witch of the West.


	2. Chapter One

_It became a celebrated event; the death of the Wicked Witch of the West._

--

**Chapter One:**

She didn't understand; she could not comprehend. The air still stank of her failures and her body shook with exhaustion and despair. She was naked, and trembling, and utterly confused. But that was all there was to it because she still breathed, and the walls still looked the same, and it was all far too familiar.

It was Kiamo Ko, and she was alive.

She tried to stand but her body failed her, so she crawled instead. She made her way down the stairs, into her old room. It was the same, everything was the same, and it made her heart ache. She had died! Hadn't she? She had been freed! Hadn't she?

But she hadn't. And the death she had wanted for so long had slipped from her grasp yet again. She was furious, the anger choked her. She used her bedframe to help her stand, leaning on the strong wooden posts heavily to stay upright. She looked at herself; she was still green, her skin still scarred, her body still mutilated, and still far too thin. She shook her head slightly and her hair unwound itself from its customary knot at the base of her neck and fell over her shoulders, cascaded down her back. She tried to understand but could not.

It just didn't make sense!

There had been water, she was sure of it. And Dorothy, and her annoying friends. And Liir, dear Liir, he had been willing to abandon her for nothing more than a kiss. It was ridiculous when she thought about it. How long had she been without sleep before Dorothy had come? Had the sleeplessness made her insane then, or had she just been insane to begin with? Had she just been a bitter old woman who had finally cracked from the despair and the pain? She couldn't remember. It was a haze to her, a vague memory. It was like she had been drunk, and maybe she had been.

She couldn't be certain of anything.

She didn't know the date, or the time, or anything beyond the fact that she was alive and this… this was Kiamo Ko. She found that she didn't have the energy to dress herself, did it matter anyways? So she pushed off the bed, shakily stepped forwards, and left the room.

There was no one. There was no Liir, there was no Nanny, there was no Killjoy or Chistery or any of the others. There was simply her and only her. She was alone; abandoned and forgotten and completely, utterly alone. Her heart beat fast in her chest and her breaths came in shallow gasps. Was she panicking? She didn't know. She tried to keep a level head on her shoulders but it was hard when she had no concept of what was going on. Was this still the same Oz? Had she been unconscious for a day, or two, or seven? Or had it been years? Or had it only been hours? Had she died and come back to life? Was she surprised that she had survived the water? After all, she had jumped in a lake once and come out alive. Would a pail of rainwater really kill her?

She had hoped it would.

But what had happened? If she had not died then surely they would have taken her body. Or had it disappeared? She had heard that they had never found Fiyero's body; maybe the same thing that had magicked his body away had magicked hers away too. But hadn't she chanted a spell as the water struck her down? She couldn't say for certain but she thought she had. Had the spell saved her? Or whisked her away to a safe area of the castle?

There were too many questions and not enough answers. It made her head spin. So she sat down in a nearby chair, finding herself in the kitchen, and stared at the wall opposite her. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief flood her then. If Oz thought she was dead then she wasn't the Wicked Witch of the West anymore, was she? She couldn't be, not if she was dead. She was just Elphaba again. Elphaba, Fabala, Fae, Elphie. She was just a Thropp daughter and that was all. It made her smile, to think that that cursed title no longer applied to her.

She stood up, but her body unexpectedly failed her then and she fell, unconscious, into a crumpled heap of green upon the dirty tiled floor.


	3. Chapter Two

_She stood up, but her body unexpectedly failed her then and she fell, unconscious, into a crumpled heap of green upon the dirty tiled floor._

--

**Chapter Two:**

Malky padded up the stone steps, cocked his head at the opened door, and stepped into the castle of Kiamo Ko. He was old now, too old to make the journey he had just made, and his time was running out. The world had tired him and his body ached with age. The castle was large, larger than he ever imagined, and he didn't know where to go, where to start. He wasn't even sure why he was here. She was dead. The Wicked Witch of the West was dead. She had to be; Dorothy had killed her and brought back the bottle to prove she had been here.

Yet Malky had still come. Was he holding onto hope? Was he being foolish and senile in his old age? He didn't know and he didn't care. He was tired, and he knew his life was almost done. And he wanted his ending to be somewhere that mattered, not in some dark alleyway in the Emerald City.

He heard it then. The music floated through the castle like a draft of wind. A haunted song played on piano in desperate need of tuning and a voice he recognized, he knew. It was her. It had to be her. He followed the trail of the music, his feet making little sound on the stone floors, and rounded a corner – found the door to a small study open. The sunlight poured in through the large window and illuminated the person at the piano; was a beacon to her presence.

She stopped then, seeming to sense that he was there, and turned around to face him. She wore black, like always, and she was as green as she had ever been. A smile broke out on her face as she recognized him. "Malky?" she breathed, she was in shock.

"I never knew you could play," he said, speaking of her skills on the piano. His voice was low and husky and it sounded almost as if it pained him to talk.

She was at his side in a moment, had him up in her arms and clutched at her chest. "Oh, oh Malky!" she crooned, she was nearly crying. "I never… you… it's been so long! Too long!"

"You look well."

She nodded, wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "I get to start anew, in a way," she whispered as she looked at him; revealed in his presence. "It agrees with me."

"So you didn't die."

She shrugged and brought him over to the piano. Set him on the top of it. "I don't know what happened," she said as she began to play again; softer this time – so that they could speak above the notes.

"I'm dying."

His words didn't surprise Elphaba. "I thought you would have died long ago. It's been years since we've seen each other." She continued to play, her haunted tune matching the morbid conversation she was having.

"I wanted my life to end somewhere that mattered."

She nodded, knowing that he spoke of wanting to be near her. "You've been a good friend," she whispered. "The only one I've ever had who has not betrayed me in some way. I want to thank you for that."

"The Wizard has disappeared. They've said he went back to his world… wherever that may be."

"I shouldn't care anymore," she muttered. "Yet I find that I still do. Why can't I simply forget about the vile world of men that surrounds me? They're savages, all of them, even little Liir. He abandoned me for nothing more than a kiss! Can you believe that?"

"Is he truly your son, like the rumours say?"

She shrugged. "He resembles Fiyero, I will not argue that, but I cannot remember. You must see Malky, I was not in any frame of mind to remember such things as that. It's possible I could have borne him but I simply do not know, like so much in my life it is but a blur to me. And that is all that I can, that I will, say on the matter."

"I wouldn't be surprised, the way you two used to –"

"Don't!" Elphaba hissed out, and Malky fell silent at her outburst. She couldn't bear to hear of him, not now and not ever again. It still pained her; still made her heart constrict and her head hurt. So she avoided it at all cost, because it was easier that way.

They fell silent and Elphaba continued to play. Her soft, haunting tune became louder, more angry, as she seemed to bring her fury out in the music. She sang, slipping between the language of Oz and the language of the Grimmerie without really realizing it. The air stilled around them and the light faded as the sun shifted in the sky.

It became a routine as the days passed by. Malky would sit atop the piano, on a pile of blankets Elphaba had put there for him, and bask in the sun as the green woman played. Elphaba shared with him what food she had and would carry him out into the backyard a few times a week so that he could nibble on the grass – which helped to settle his unruly stomach.

"It was my fault," Malky said nearly two months after first coming to Kiamo Ko.

Elphaba's hands stopped on the piano and she looked up to meet Malky's forceful gaze. "What was your fault?"

"Fiyero's death."

Elphaba's mouth opened, her eyebrows raised, and her eyes filled with tears at the simple mention of her lover's name. "Don't you dare say that!" she hissed out.

"I wasn't paying attention. They followed me and I just –"

"Don't!" Elphaba screamed, interrupting Malky. "I don't want to hear! I refuse to believe you have betrayed me like everyone else!" She stood up, knocking over the bench she had been sitting in, and jerked backwards a few feet to try and get away from the Cat's presence.

"I didn't mean for it to –"

"Don't!"

"I want to say –"

"Shut-up!"

Malky stood up on shaking legs. "Please!" he screamed, as loud as his tired voice would go. "Let me apologize! Please! I'm so sorry!"

Elphaba froze and let the pain and terror overwhelm her for a few brief moments before locking her emotions away and turning her head to stare out the window. "Okay," she whispered, "apologize then."

Malky's voice shook as he spoke. "I wasn't paying attention when I was walking home, I guess I was just cocky. I thought they would never think to follow me but they did and I didn't mean for them to. And I… I wanted to tell you back then but you left so suddenly. Then I never saw you again. And the… the guilt, oh, the guilt Fae! I'm just… _I'm so sorry_! Please, can you ever forgive me?"

"No!" Elphaba snapped out and she turned on her heal, fled from the room as fast as she could.

She didn't play the piano for nearly a week, and she ignored Malky for the same amount of time. Eventually, when she felt she could be in Malky's presence without breaking his neck, she sat back down at the piano and began to play. Malky, like always, laid in his pile of blankets on top of the old piano and watched Elphaba. She smiled at him as she played and he knew that he had been forgiven for the terrible mistake of his past that had sent the green Witch before him spiraling downwards.

Elphaba played and Malky faded away. His breathing slowed until it became nothing. And his body went rigid and cold. Elphaba sensed his passing but did not stop playing – in fact she played harder, faster, angrier, as she tried to keep the tears at bay. She realized that Malky had been desperately holding on to life just to apologize to her and she felt… good… to be able to give him the forgiveness he had been searching for. She was shocked he had even survived the journey to Kiamo Ko but now that he was here it was a bitter drink to swallow to see him die like this; curled up upon the piano as if he were sleeping.

So she continued to play, and didn't look at him, and tried to forget that she even cared for the old Cat. But she couldn't because Malky had been such a strong presence in her life. He had been there for the tail end of Shiz, had broken her free of Letozay's torturous hold on her, had stayed with her through the years of selling her body to survive, had been there through the time with Fiyero, and had never – in all her life – done a single thing to harm or to hurt her. He had never betrayed her – not intentionally, had never abandoned her, and had never forced himself upon her life. When she could not stand to remember he had disappeared but when she needed him most he had come back to her. He did not judge, he did not hate, and he did not protest her life or battle her will. He was simply there; a comforting presence to remind her that not all in the world was evil or vile or out to bring her pain.

And now he was dead. She slammed her hands down on the piano – creating a cascade of sound throughout the room that echoed around her. It was a sound that replaced the wail she wanted to scream but could not. It was a sound that replaced the tears she wanted to cry but could not. She sat there, for a long time, and stared at her green hands upon the white and black keys of the piano until she could gather up the strength within her to do what needed to be done.

She buried him behind the castle in what, she assumed, was supposed to be the backyard. But neglect had taken its toll and the grass was long and the bushes and flowers wild and unkempt. She dug a shallow grave and buried the lifeless body of the Cat as best as she could. She kneeled before the grave and found that no words she could say would bring comfort to the piece of her soul that his death had taken from her.

It became a routine for her; every morning, without fail, she would stand by Malky's grave in silence and give her respects to the one person in all her life that had never hurt her.


	4. Chapter Three

_It became a routine for her; every morning, without fail, she would stand by Malky's grave in silence and give her respects to the one person in all her life that had never hurt her._

--

**Chapter Three:**

She knew nothing of the world outside of the protective walls of Kiamo Ko. She had no idea that the Vinkus clans were in the midst of a war meant to decide who would be the next leader, the next one to claim Kiamo Ko as his own. She had no idea that Munchkinland was in the grips of a brutal civil war, or that the Emerald City was cracking from the political games being played out behind closed doors. She knew nothing.

She grew the food she needed in the garden in the back. There were a few hens left, and they gave her eggs to eat, and a cow that she gathered her milk from. It wasn't easy, to live in solitude like she was, but it was calming. She grew stronger as the days went by and the physical fits that had plagued her since her time at Shiz grew sparse. They did not disappear completely but the time between each of them grew longer and longer until she rarely had them at all. She wondered if perhaps the fits had been brought on by the stress her life had given her before but she did not dwell on it, she didn't bother to dwell on it. They were rare now, and that's all she could ask for.

So when the castle of Kiamo Ko was stormed one day the Witch was taken by complete surprised. She hid herself in the highest room in the east tower, clutching the Grimmerie and the burnt broom to her chest. She heard the sounds of feet against stone floors, and screaming men barking out orders to search the place. She was terrified she would be found and angry that the calm life she had created for herself was being destroyed. She had been happy, to some extent, living alone in the castle with no fear of being assassinated or captured. Now that happiness was ripped from her, just like everything in her life had been ripped from her before.

She waited until the night gave her a measure of cover. She hid in that damn room, not aware that her magick was barring the door from being opened by the Vinkus men that had taken Kiamo Ko, until she felt safe enough to leave. She mounted the broom and fled from the castle through an opened window as the moon was hidden behind a rather large storm cloud threatening to spill. She did not know where to go, or what to do, or how she would now survive, she simply flew. She flew far too high and far too fast and the broom wavered and failed her an hour or two before daybreak. She crashed to the ground, finding herself near the cursed yellow brick road, and shakily stood up. There was no one around and she did not know where she was. It had been so long since she had left Kiamo Ko that she could not place her position. She figured she was somewhere between the Emerald City and Shiz University but she could not be sure. From what she could remember of her learning in school – and if the yellow brick road had not been expanded – the only other place she could be would be somewhere between the Emerald City and Munchkinland, or possibly the Quadling Kells.

She frowned, chewed her lip, and tried to decipher her next course of action. She felt old suddenly, as if this was all far too much effort. She had come to terms with her life in Kiamo Ko, had come to terms with dying in that large, lonely castle, but now she was forced to try her hand at life again – and that angered her.

There were voices, she heard them on the edge of the wind, and she darted from the side of the road; hid herself in the roots of a rather large and water-worn willow tree. She crouched there, waiting for the cover of darkness again, and fell into a fitful sleep. When she awoke the moon was high in the sky and she crawled out from the twisted roots and stood in the middle of the yellow brick road – it looked more green than yellow in the strange, storm-clouded moonlight. Was it the raining season? She didn't know but she feared it was. She couldn't travel in the rain, it would burn her, would kill her.

But wasn't she already dead?

She shook her head, tried to clear her thoughts, and attempted to make some sense of where she was. She began to walk down the yellow brick road; having no idea if she was walking towards Shiz University, or the Emerald City, or Munchkinland, or Quadling country. She simply walked, counting the seconds that passed her by. Why had this happened? Why had fate forced her back into life? Had she not suffered enough? Or was there some good she still had to accomplish?

She laughed at that thought; a sad, broken laugh that was swallowed by the wind and carried far from her. She could do no good – it was impossible for her. She was the exact opposite of goodness, of purity, and she had failed at every attempt to right the wrongs that surrounded her; Doctor Dillamond, Jay, Nessa, Fiyero, Glinda, Frex, Malky and all the other Animals. She had failed in it all, even when it came to herself. She was nothing but a hermit now, a dead Witch hiding in the shadows of her dead lover's home. She was weak; weak and pitiful and incapable of doing anything right. She had tried over and over again but every time she tried the worse her failures became until she had led herself to her own disastrous death and then strange rebirth. Was she really any different now than before? Can a person even change? Or was she still, and would she always be, nothing more than the green whore? The object, the tool, of the people around her?

In time she mounted her broom and flew. The clouds hid the sun as daybreak came so she continued to fly low, keeping as far from the road as she could without losing sight of it. She tried to keep her mind blank, to focus only on where she was going, but it was difficult. She kept worrying about her future now, about being discovered. She was dead to Oz, she had to be, so what would happen if she was spotted? Would she still be the Wicked Witch of the West? Would she still be hated? Would she still be wrongfully accused of committing crimes she had never even been a part of? She didn't know, and that scared her.

She did not sleep, she did not eat, and she did not even pay attention to the time that passed her by. At what she could only assume was four or five days passing she found herself within sight of the Emerald City. So she had gone the right way, that is, if she had been going to the Emerald City to begin with. She wasn't sure she had been but she didn't question why she was here. If she had ended up here by some happy chance then that is where she would stay – at least until she was discovered and no indubitably murdered.

In the cover of the late night she snuck in over the high walls meant to keep out those without the right papers to enter. Her broom continued to fly for her, which confused her greatly. Had it not been useless to her for so very long? Had it not continued to refuse to fly for her over and over again? Why now was it succumbing to her will? Was it because she was not the same bitter, vengeful person? Could it sense her mood? Could it sense when it was being used to hurt someone or to save someone? She didn't know and she wanted to know because she knew so little now… and she hated that. She had always prided herself on her knowledge but even that had seemed to slip from her grasp.

She kept her head down, tried to stay in the shadows, and could feel her heart racing. She didn't know where to go, she didn't know what to do, and she was utterly terrified. Had she walked towards her death? She had no idea. Why had she even come here? She couldn't say. So she walked until her feet took her to the old abandoned corn exchange. It was standing still, but just barely, and she walked up the creaking steps to find herself in the old, worn room. Her mind flashed back to a day where all she had been able to see was blood. It had covered everything and she could still smell it. Had no one else claimed this place as their own? It seemed there had been no one after her.

She had to close her eyes and focus only on breathing through her mouth to keep herself from vomiting. The memory was too real, too fresh, and it assaulted her like a crashing wave. This was where she had lived for so long. This was where she had fallen in love with Fiyero, where they had conducted their sordid love affair. And this is where he had died – where her life had tumbled out of her control.

The floorboards began to shake beneath her and she wondered if her body weight was what was causing the building to falter in its strength or if it was her uncontrollable magick. Even after all these years she had never found a way to reign it in, to keep it in control. And now it was going to crush this building and all the painful memories it held for her.

So she ran. She ran down the stairs and out of her old home, refusing to look back as she heard it crashing to the ground. She ran as hard and as fast as she could until she collapsed in exhaustion against some dilapidated building. The sun began to rise, she could just see its rays peaking into the Emerald City – illuminating the green that the city was built in for everyone to see.

A door opened beside her and she jerked up and backwards from it; turned to flee but a voice stopped her. "I know you," it said and she turned around to look at him, recognizing the voice and latching onto it in a pitiful attempt at hoping of finding safety in this damned city of green.

The man at the door cocked his head slightly, seemed to be studying her. "You're Fae, aren't you?" he said and she relaxed at the use of her revolutionist's name. He hadn't called her the Wicked Witch, he had called her Fae. Did she know him? Was she supposed to know him?

"Don't you remember me?" he asked. "You used to come to my bar all the time, remember? And when you disappeared for all that time I held on to your broom and that book of yours. Remember?"

She nodded. He continued; "I don't know if you ever guessed but I was part of the revolution then. I still am, really, just not that much. It's died down now, gone more underground since the death of the Wicked Witch."

She gasped at that – so she _was_ dead – and he looked at her quizzically until realization began to set in. "That skin colour," he breathed. "You're the Witch!"

"Quiet!" she hissed out, stepping backwards from him. "You must be going senile in your age sir because the Witch is dead. How could I be her?"

He grabbed her wrist, hauled her closer to himself so he could better see her in the rising sunlight. "There's only been one person with skin like yours," he said, "and that's the Witch. You're her. You must be! I would have never guessed that young little Fae of the revolution was the Wicked Witch. If only I had paid more attention to your colouring back in my younger days! "

"And if I was would you turn me in? If I was would you want me murdered?"

"If you was I would offer you a place to stay in return for working at the bar. I've needed extra help for a while now but everyone I hire ends up being incompetent."

Warning bells went off in her head. This was a man, and men could not be trusted. Was he really offering her a place to live for honest work or would he whore her out, just like Letozay had done? But did she have a choice? Where else could she go, where else could she live? Surely no one else in Oz would take her in so readily – they would kill her on the spot. Or worse, turn her into the officials. She couldn't let that happen.

But could she take the risk of trusting this man?

She nodded, and let him lead her inside. She remembered this bar and knew now that the man spoke the truth. She _had_ frequented this bar often in her younger years and he _had_ kept her broom and the Grimmerie for her during her years in Letozay's torturous hold. But could he still be as moral as she remembered him to be? Could he still be the same man she remembered him to be?

All her doubts, all her fears, fled her the moment she saw the piano. She hadn't remembered it being there before but then again, she had never paid much attention. He saw her staring at it. "Do you play?" he asked.

She shrugged. "A little," she said. She had never been taught but at Kiamo Ko she had found that playing the instrument came easy to her.

"I had someone who used to play but he disappeared a few months ago. Tangled up in politics and he got on the bad side of someone. Go ahead, give it a try." He gave her a gentle nudge towards the old piano and she sat down at it.

She began to play. The instrument was in far better condition than the one in Kiamo Ko had been in. It was, she believed, almost in tune. She smiled as her fingers played the smooth ivory keys. The music calmed her, settled her racing heart, and made her feel just a tiny bit of happiness. He watched from where he stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You're good," he said but she barely heard over the song she was playing. "If you play for the bar during the night I'll let you stay in the room in the basement. It has a lock, so you won't be bothered by the drunken men, and the piano draws people in here. It will do my business well."

And so it began – the partnership that allowed Elphaba to survive. She kept herself covered in dark clothing, allowing only her eyes to be seen, and claimed to be a burn victim so that no one would ask to see her body beneath the clothing. She played each night for the privilege to sleep in the room below and ate what food the barman could spare at the end of the night. She had a small cup that rested on the piano and the drunken men were, to Elphaba's surprise, far more generous in the tips they gave her then she could have ever managed.

It wasn't a great life, she mused, but at least she was not a whore.


	5. Chapter Four

_It wasn't a great life, she mused, but at least she was not a whore._

--

**Chapter Four:**

She found out that it had been just over two years since her believed death. She heard the rumours of her murder – how the water had melted her away until only her hat remained. She wondered where that hat had gone; it hadn't been in Kiamo Ko when she had awoken from the horrible nightmare of her life. She missed it, she had become fond of that black witch's hat. Or perhaps she had just been fond of the memory of Glinda it held for her – she couldn't be certain.

What she _could_ be certain of was the front page story on the newspaper she saw as she walked through the great market street of the Emerald City. It shocked her so greatly that she was frozen to the spot and did not notice the people that accidentally hit her as she stood in their way. At any other time she would have flinched at even the most barest of touches from a stranger but as she looked at the newspaper she could not register anything else but the words scrawled across it.

_Fiyero Tiggular: Prince of the Vinkus, Alive?_

She fished through her pocket, taking out the tip money she had made that was meant to buy her food, and quickly paid the storekeeper for the paper. She folded it up, shoved it into her bag, and began the walk back to the bar. Her pace was frantic and jerky as she tried to keep her racing heart under control. It couldn't be. It just… couldn't be! He could not be alive! He had been dead when she had left him, hadn't he?

She couldn't bear the thought that she had left him, all that time ago, when he had actually been alive. Had she really abandoned him in his need? And if so then where had he gone? And why had no one ever heard of his presence until now?

She pushed through the door, called out a hasty greeting to the barman, before disappearing down the stairs and into the small confines of her room. She sat down on her bed, her legs crossed beneath her, and pulled the newspaper from her bag. She unfolded it and held it in shaking hands as she turned to the page that the story she was looking for was written on.

_Fiyero Tiggular, the prince of the Vinkus, has long been thought dead. His body was never found and no official explanation was ever given for his strange disappearance but most people within the circle of politics he was part of insisted he had gotten involved with the wrong people. There have always been rumours that he had had a mistress in the Emerald City, betraying the sanctuary of his marriage to Sarima of his homeland, and that it was that – and a serious of unfortunate political incidents – that had led to his supposed murder._

_It seems though, that that was not the truth. Fiyero Tiggular has been found alive. Alive but not well. During the reign of the Wizard he was taken prisoner and no record of his arrest or following detainment in the Southstairs prison was ever made. This strange, hidden capture and imprisonment was never spoken of and it is believed that no one knew of it save the Wizard himself – even the guards who had subdued him and captured him cannot be found (which makes one believe that perhaps they were killed to keep the secret a secret?). Whatever the circumstances behind his imprisonment are it is safe only to say that he was found in one of the deepest holding cells under a false name in the record books which is why he had never been rescued until now. No one can say what horrors he has seen during his harrowing experience and the only statement released by the palace is the following; "Fiyero Tiggular is indeed alive and recovering from the unfortunate circumstances he has lived with for the last many-a-years." It was said by Glinda the Good Witch herself, which can only surmise that she is indeed watching out for his well-being._

_We send our good wishes and well-offs to the Vinkus prince and hope that his return will help to settle the violent upheaval that has befallen the Vinkus since his disappearance and the death of the Wicked Witch of the West – who had spent her last years in Kiamo Ko, the castle that belongs to the Tiggular family. And that brings upon another serious of questions. Did the Wicked Witch have anything to do with Fiyero Tiggular's capture? Did she fool the Wizard into capturing him, giving Fiyero a false name and framing him for an evil deed he never did, just so that she could take over the castle of Kiamo Ko and rule the Vinkus? No one can say for certain and we will never know for the Wicked Witch is long dead, but the possibility is there. And if the Wicked Witch did indeed do such a thing then she was more powerful then we could have ever imagined. To fool the Wonderful Wizard would have taken great power indeed which only goes to show the strength that young Dorothy Gale showed as she succeeded in melting the Witch that so plagued the land of Oz._

The article went on but Elphaba could not stomach a single more word of its blubbering propaganda. She had no doubt that it spoke the truth of Fiyero being alive but to accuse her of trying to frame him! It made her furious to be accused of ever trying to harm the man that she had loved!

That she still loved. She _could _still love him. If he was alive she could still love him. They could be together again. They could love again. If she could just contact him, could tell him that she was still alive!

The thought was crushed in an instant. She could never see him again. To associate with him would force her to show herself to Oz, to admit that she was still alive. She would become hunted again, and Fiyero would be along with her. It was too dangerous, for both of them. No, loving him now meant to stay away from him. Besides, he thought she was dead. He would move on and never know what he was missing.

And in the end all she had ever been to him was a mistress. Who was to say that he still loved her? For all she knew she had been nothing more than an affair to him. Yes, he had said he had loved her, had claimed to care for her, but when it was done he would get over it – would move on. He was a man after all, and they were stronger that way, their emotions had less control over them. He would move on, would find love with another, and live out his days in bliss. All she could ask for now was that he would remember her from time to time and would feel some grief over the death he believed her to have suffered.

That night she spent her tip money on the alcohol and drugs she used to wash away Fiyero's painful memory.


	6. Chapter Five

_That night she spent her tip money on the alcohol and drugs she used to wash away Fiyero's painful memory._

--

**Chapter Five:**

It started slowly. A drink here, a drink there, but before she knew it Elphaba found herself far more than just a little drunk at the end of each night. And the men around her noticed. When she had just been the sober pianist they had never bothered her but as she became more and more intoxicated as the weeks wore on they began to press their advantages more. They didn't care that she claimed to be a burn victim, that the skin hidden beneath her dark clothing was supposedly horribly scarred. They wanted her body simply because they thought they deserved it – for whatever twisted reason they had come up with in their drunken stupidity.

At first she had avoided them completely but one night, when she had retired earlier than normal and taken to her room, she heard the patter of feet against the stairs. Her door was locked but it seemed that such a meager attempt to protect herself was useless against the desires of the drunken men from the bar upstairs. The man burst the door open with a loud crash and came at her in a rush. She tried to push him away but he was simply too large. He pinned her against the bed; clawed at her thick clothing to try and get it off. She screamed bloody murder, screamed for help, and for once in her life someone did come. It was the barman, and a few other of the less then drunk men, who burst in through the door. They grabbed the man on top of Elphaba and yanked him away and she scooted back on her bed until her back rested against the wall. She wrapped her arms around her trembling body and stared at the drunken man who had dared to try and use her.

_Rape her._

A shiver crawled up her spine at the realization of how close she had been to becoming the same person, the same whore, she once was. She bolted from the bed then and clutched the chamber pot in the corner of her room where the contents of her stomach were choked from her. She struggled to breathe around the lump of bile that clogged her throat. The barman ushered all the men from Elphaba's room and threw the man who had tried to use his green pianist for his own pleasure out of his bar before returning to her room. He kneeled down beside her then, and lightly placed his hand on her back. She jerked away from his touch and he instantly lowered his arm.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Get out," she snapped, not daring to look at him incase he should see her cracking mask.

"Look, I'm sorry. He should never have gotten down here. You know I would wish you no harm. You're here to be the pianist for the bar, nothing more."

"Get out!"

He stood up and left her then, letting the damaged door shut as well as it could. He knew that she could not be reasoned with until she calmed herself down so she let her be, let her have her space. She leaned back on her heals and stared at her shaking hands as they rested on her lap. _Why? Why is this happening again? _she thought angrily, bitterly. _Can I be nothing more? Will all men ever want from me is my body? Why can I not break free of this? Why can I not be anything else but the screwed whore! Why!_

The next night she played the piano faster, louder, angrier, as she tried to keep the men away. The barman saw her discomfort and approached her, told her she should retire early so as not to attract the attention of the drunken men. She took his advice but found that sleep eluded her – she feared being disturbed again. She feared being taken advantage of.

In the next few months that passed by her insomnia began to rear its ugly head. And along with it came the convulsive fits that she had nearly rid herself of. The first one had occurred while she was in her room, readying herself for the day. She had fallen, knocking over the chamber pot and spilling its contents over the floor. The sheets had gotten tangled around her and the uncontrollable thrashing of her limbs had brought the barman – whose name she had eventually learned was Garivon – down from where he was cleaning the bar. He had watched in horror until her body stilled and she could gather herself together enough to speak.

Elphaba had been utterly embarrassed and tried her best to explain herself but having no knowledge of why the fits overtook her body there was little explaining she could actually do. So Garivon left her alone with fear for her health settling in the pit of his stomach. He had grown to enjoy her company and the conversations they had as she would help him clean the bar before the night rush came. She was far smarter than she let on and he was determined to help her get back on her feet as much as he could. After all, did she not deserve it?

She did her best to hide her frantic emotions and failing health but when she had one of her fits while she was playing the piano, as was her job, she could no longer hide her sick body from Garivon and his natural instinct to care for her. He carried her down to her room afterwards and sat with her as she laid, gasping for breath, and stared only at the ceiling. He could smell the whiskey on her and he wondered – for the first time – how much she really drank while she played. She was given free drinks, another part of their strange payment plan, and she seemed to be abusing that fact without his knowledge.

But he wasn't really angry at her for it.

"You should eat more," he said simply. She made a small, incomprehensible throaty sound that was neither a confirmation nor denial of his statement. He sighed. "You're too thin."

"I've always been too thin."

"To drive the men away?"

She inhaled sharply at his words and closed her eyes, turned her head away. "I'm sure you heard the rumours, back when they were spread all those years ago, but that is my past," she whispered as she refused to look at him. "It is not a part of my life anymore."

"I knew that from the moment you fought that man."

"Don't do this. Please… don't bring me back to that place."

He nodded and patted her hand in reassurance before leaving her to her thoughts. When he was gone and the poorly fixed door was closed behind him she let out a small sigh of relief. _Is this what it feels like to have a father? _she thought.

Elphaba did not know but, for once in her life, she dared to let herself hope.


	7. Chapter Six

_Elphaba did not know but, for once in her life, she dared to let herself hope._

--

**Chapter Six:**

It was a disgusting habit. An old habit that was filthy and dirty and utterly disgusting. She hated herself for it but no matter how hard she tried to break free of it she just went right back to its deadly, bloody grip. It was the only vice of hers that left scars. The only vice that left a visible mark to tell the world how completely pathetic and unworthy of life she was.

The cold edge of the knife dug into the flesh of an already scarred arm; drew blood that stood out in stark contrast to her green skin. It bubbled from the wound and dripped to the faded wooden floor. She watched it for a few moments until she traced another line of blood parallel to it. And then another. Then a few perpendicular to it.

Garivon called for her then – something to do about needing her help to get a box down from the top shelf – but she barely heard him above the sound of rushing blood in her ears. She was transfixed on her horribly disgusting habit and could not bring herself back to the present.

So Garivon, concerned that he had not even gotten a reply from his green tenant, made his way down the stairs and knocked on her door. When he got no answer he gently opened it and the sight he saw horrified him but did not particularly surprise him. "Elphaba?" he called quietly but she did not respond. "Fae?" he said, hoping that perhaps she would respond better to her old codename. Still nothing. He sat down beside her then and she made a low throaty noise to show that she knew he was near her. She opened her mouth to speak but he interrupted her with; "You don't need to explain." She nodded at that, relieved that she was not going to be questioned – was not going to be put on the spot to try and decipher the reason behind her terrible habit.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she let her head fall into the crook created where his neck joined his shoulder. She held her wounded arm against her chest, her blood stained the black cloth of her ratted dress, and found herself relaxing into his hold. She found him to be a comforting presence, much like Fiyero had been, but without the worry that he would love her _too_ much. This had to be what having a father was like – she was sure of it. What else could it be? She felt protected in his presence; she knew that he would never let any harm come to her on his watch. This was paternal love. This was what she had never had and what she had so hoped, and wished, that the Wizard would have given her back when she had still been foolish and young and so very idealistic.

He stayed with her until her body stopped trembling and the flow of blood ebbed from her wounded arm. He helped her too her bed where she sat beneath the covers but did not lay down. "Do you need anything?" he asked.

"I had a friend once," Elphaba muttered. "He told me that I needed to find something to distract myself when I… when I get like this."

"Do you want something to distract you?"

"Do you have anything to read?"

He nodded at that and disappeared from the room. He returned a few moments later with a few old, worn novels. "They were my wife's," he said.

Elphaba looked at him in confusion. "Your wife?" she asked.

"She died, years ago."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "The price of the revolution… I knew it could happened but it still hurt when she died. When they all died."

"All?"

"My two children got tangled in it all as well. It was nearly two decades ago though and I've come to terms with it."

"Just when I began my turn in the revolution," she muttered; shocked at how long she had been involved in trying to fix the wrongs of the world.

"Truly?"

Elphaba nodded. "I'm just over forty," she said, "if I can remember the years correctly. I suppose I was thirty-eight when I 'died', or something of the like. And I was nineteen – I think – when I stepped onto the grounds of Shiz for the first time. Which means I must have been twenty when I first met the Wizard, when I was labeled as the Wicked Witch." She chuckled, sadly, at her own words. "Eighteen years. I lived in hiding, known to the world as the 'Wicked Witch of the West', for eighteen years of my life. Now I'm forty and what do I have to show for myself? A scarred body and a mind full of tortured memories? What a useless waste my life has been!"

Garivon sat down on the edge of her bed. "You're life ain't been a waste," he said. "You've done a lot to be proud of. Those involved in the resistance still talk of you and the deeds you accomplished. Remember the propaganda library you destroyed? And the Animals you helped to save from that damned holding cell? You've done more good then you give yourself credit for."

She looked at him then; really looked at him. She saw his aged face; the wrinkles and the sunspot skin, the weary eyes that had seen too much pain, the slope of his shoulders that spoke of his tiredness of his own life. He had seen the same pain she had, had lived the same secret, double life. But for longer than her – after all, he had to be near seventy years old by now. "Are you still in the revolution?" she asked.

He nodded and Elphaba looked at him in awe. "After all these years," she breathed. "You never strayed from the cause, did you?"

"No."

"Then you have more strength then I could ever hope to attain." She dropped her gaze to her lap, fiddled with her dress. She was suddenly so very ashamed of abandoning the resistance. It was true that the revolution they had all strived for had never really come to fruitation but… but _still_. If others had stayed on the path then why had she not?

"I was also not the Wicked Witch of the West. I did not suffer as you did. I was free to walk the streets of Oz without fear. You are green, and even now you must hide yourself completely or risk being discovered. It is a curse, that skin colouring of yours, and I can't imagine living in such a way."

She shrugged. "You get used to it."

"Will you come back?"

She flinched at his question; opened her mouth to deny his request but found that she could not. She turned her head to look at the wall so she wouldn't have to meet his eyes. "I'm too old," she said, knowing it was a ridiculous excuse even as she said it since he was far older than her. "And I've… I've done my part. I don't think I could bear such responsibility again."

"What else do you have left though?"

She pondered over those words. Was he right? She had lost everything else in her life. She had abandoned all those she cared for, and gotten the ones she loved killed, just for her cause. It was disrespectful to all the ones she had hurt to simply sit back and let her life pass her by. She had given up so much for the resistance that it seemed so very wrong to simply abandon the cause she had been so intent on being a part of.

So she agreed. A small, "Yes," escaped her mouth and Garivon's face lit up.

"You'll do good," he said, holding her hand in reassurance. "Trust me. There's a lot you can still offer the world. A lot of help you can still give. I'm glad you've made this decision."

She nodded as she tried to swallow away the lump in her throat. "Was this your goal?" she asked. "When you saw me on the street that night, was your goal from the beginning to get me back into the resistance?"

"No."

She stood up then, began to pace. She was suddenly terrified of the decision she had just made. "For eighteen years I gave my life up for the damned cause!" she shrieked. "And now, when all I want is to start over, you have dragged me back into the life I tried to leave behind!" She rounded on him. "Why?" she screamed. "Why have you guilted me back into this stupid double life!"

He looked at her in concern. "You don't have to do this," he said. "It's just an option."

She kept pacing, wringing her hands together to try and expel her frantic energy and nervousness. "I'm too old and useless for this," she muttered. "I gave up on the resistance years ago, why am I going back to it now?"

"Because you need to do something right with your life."

She looked at him then, studied him. "You're the father I never had," she blurted out before realizing what she had said. Her eyebrows raised, her eyes widened, and her hand came up to cover her opened mouth. She turned from him and her other hand shot out to grab the post of the bed to keep herself upright. She could feel the tears throbbing behind her eyes and she was desperate to hold them back. Garivon came to her side; put his hands on her arm and lower back to hold her hutched body upright.

"Don't," she hissed out but he didn't let go of her.

"It's okay," he whispered. He was touched that she thought so highly of him and he was nearly crying himself. "You can cry if you want… it's not weak to do such a thing."

She shook her head. He didn't understand. He did not know of her allergy to water and she refused to let him know such a highly guarded secret. What if he really was just trying to trick her? What if, in the end, he was simply using her? She couldn't take that chance. She couldn't let him know just incase he did turn on her.

So she forced the tears back and after a few minutes – where Garivon rubbed calming circles over her back – she was able to get her emotions back under control. She straightened up and turned to face the barman who had done so much to help her. "Thank you," she whispered and the choked way that her words came from her mouth spoke far more of how she truly felt then any words could have. Garivon embraced her then, and she melted into his hold, clutched onto his shirt in desperation.

She fell asleep that night with Garivon watching over her from where he sat in the corner in her room – making her, for one of the few times in her life – feel comfortable enough to fall into a true, deep sleep.


	8. Chapter Seven

_She fell asleep that night with Garivon watching over her from where he sat in the corner in her room – making her, for one of the few times in her life – feel comfortable enough to fall into a true, deep sleep._

--

**Chapter Seven:**

It was over a year and a half later that Elphaba found herself at the steps of the Emerald City's palace. She stood in the large crowd with everyone else, clothed head to toe in black, and waited with baited breath. There had been an announcement that Glinda the Good was going to address the crowd and there were rumours that Fiyero himself, who had stayed out of the public eye since being freed from the Southstairs, would also be there. She knew she shouldn't be here – that seeing them would only bring her pain – but she couldn't find the strength within herself to stay away.

She had been a part of the resistance for just under a year now. She hadn't returned right after Garivon had first asked her to but in time she had found the strength to allow the resistance to be such a large part of her life again. It was easier this time, when she found Garivon beside her – working the same as she was. It was someone to confide in knowing that if he got hurt because of her he would not hold it against her. It was a risk of being involved in the resistance to begin with. And since they were both involved they both knew the risks and they both knew that if one of them got hurt it was not really their fault – even if it was – and they would not be angry with each other for it.

They did little together since Garivon himself was so old. She did more of the dirty work while he hovered at the edges, relying more on the rumours he heard from the drunken men in his bar. She was far more in the midst of it all while he was slowly being pushed out. But that was to be expected; she still had years left to give while he was running on borrowed time now.

She was thrown from her thoughts as the crowd around her suddenly got louder. She blinked a couple times to get her bearings and looked up at the balcony far above her. She had to squint through the haze that her poor vision gave her – whatever had happened to her glasses anyways? – to see the woman standing above her.

It _was_ Glinda.

Her breath caught in her throat and she tried to keep herself from crying out. For a moment she wanted to tear off the dark clothing that hid her garishly green skin in hopes that Glinda would see her, would recognize her.

"I have a happy announcement to make!" Glinda said into her microphone. Her voice was just the same as Elphaba remembered it to be. "Very happy news indeed!"

The crowd went silent in expectation. The blonde held her silence for a few dramatic moments before finally speaking. "I am carrying a child!" she said, her face glowing.

Elphaba's mouth dropped open, much the same as everyone else's in the crowd, and her mind began to spin inside her head. _Who is the father? _she questioned but she knew who it was even as she asked herself.

Then Fiyero stepped out from where he had been hiding in the shadows. He wrapped his arms around Glinda's waist and kissed her cheek lovingly.

_It's Fiyero. _

Elphaba turned and fled the suffocatingly crowded square. She didn't need to hear Glinda say that Fiyero was the father, she already knew. But she couldn't stand it. She couldn't bear the thought that Fiyero had fathered a child with her best friend; that her lover had fathered a child with Glinda. It made her head spin and her heart ache. _It wasn't fair!_ she thought bitterly. She had loved him, had he not loved her back?

_He thinks you dead, _her mind screamed at her. _He has moved on. Forgotten you. Abandoned you._

She shook her head, trying to shake away her thoughts, but she could not. She chewed her lower lip until it bled just so that she could keep her tears at bay. She stormed into the bar, slamming the door shut behind her, and brushed past Garivon and his concerned gaze but she didn't make it to her room. He grabbed her arm and kept her from fleeing his presence.

"What's wrong?" Garivon asked, not unkindly.

She closed her eyes, desperate to keep her tears under control. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave her alone but instead a choked sob came out. His face fell in concern. "What has happened?" he asked. "What has got you so stirred up?"

"I love him!" she suddenly shrieked. "And I thought… I thought he loved me back!" She couldn't control the words tumbling from her mouth or keep her expression under control. She looked at Garivon and he could see the pain and betrayal swirling in her eyes, making the brown colour look almost black. "But he! And she! And they! It just… it cannot be!"

She ripped her arm from his grasp and he did not follow her as she fled down the stairs and into her room. He heard her door slamming shut and he knew that she was not to be disturbed. He could sense that she needed time alone to collect herself and he was wise enough in his old age to let her be. But when she did not come up in the evening to play the piano he made his way down to her room and knocked on her door. After a few minutes of no response he heard shuffling from within the room and finally the door was opened just enough that she could peer out to see Garivon standing there.

"The piano," he said and she looked at him as if she did not know what he was talking about until it clicked in her brain.

"Oh," she said as she let the door open the whole way. "I'm sorry," she muttered, "I didn't realize how late it was." She turned her back to him, searched her small dresser for her thick clothing she wore to hide her green skin from the world.

Garivon looked at her in concern; saw the way her shoulders were slumped in defeat. "Actually," he said, "take the night off."

She shook her head. "I'm fine, really."

"No you're not."

She turned and leveled an angry glare at him. She didn't need to be coddled like some terrified child. He didn't flinch at her acid attitude and she knew that she would not win this argument; not with him and not this time. So she sighed and relented. "Fine," she whispered. "If you insist."

He nodded. "It will do you good," he said before leaving, letting the air around her fall into a deathly silence. She sat down on her bed, stared at the bag she held in her hands. For hours she had stared at it and wondered – should she cave?

She knew she _shouldn't_ but she desperately wanted to. The pain was too much; the betrayal too great. She couldn't bear it as she felt as if her heart had, once again, been shattered. So she went to the dresser, shook out the white powder from the bag she held, and used her fingernail to line it up into neat little rows.

The next thing she truly remembered was laying crumpled in the stairwell that led to her room with Garivon kneeling down beside her. He looked concerned but she didn't know why. Had she tried to get up the stairs? She couldn't tell.

"What has gotten into you?" he asked, trying to help her stand but she shrugged his hands off of her. He sighed. "You were almost seen! The men might be drunk but they're not idiots. If they had seen your skin!"

She looked up at him in confusion – there seemed to be two of him for some reason – and frowned. "I… I don't remember," she stammered out.

He stared at her, his gaze cold and – in a way – accusing. "What's that in your nose?" he asked even though he knew the answer. He just wanted her to say it aloud; he wanted her to admit to him, and herself, what she had done.

She closed her eyes, tried to still her ragged breathing, and did not respond. He placed his hand under her chin, lifted her head up. "Look at me," he said and she did. Brown, hazy eyes stared into brown, accusing eyes. She flinched at the force of his gaze.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"The whiteness in your nose, what is it?" Garivon pressed but she didn't answer, refused to answer.

"You know what it is," she said instead.

Garivon was suddenly overwhelmed with frustration and anger at how distant Elphaba was being. He raised his hand and struck her across the cheek, hoping to shake her from the grip the drugs still held on her.

She shrieked and stumbled into a standing position, shrunk away from him as best as she could. She raised her hand to rub the tender spot on her cheek where his backhand had made contact with her skin. "You hit me," she said and her voice shook with the words.

_Betrayed you_, her mind said to her. She shuddered and tried to press herself further into the wall she was against.

Then suddenly there were tears. They collected at the corner of her eyes and she could not blink them back. She fled to her room but stumbled on the way as the drugs still had some measure of control over her body. She collapsed near her bed, her knees striking the floor with a painful cracking sound, as she grabbed the blanket and pressed it to her face. Garivon approached her slowly and kneeled down beside her as she was desperate to keep her tears held back. He laid his hand on her back but she pulled away from his touch.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have hit you."

She lowered the blanket and laid a cold glare on him. He could see the burns on her face that her tears had left. "You're just like everyone else!" she snapped out. "You're the same as every other man! Do you take pleasure in hurting me? Do you find some comfort within yourself by hitting me!"

He dropped his gaze to the floor and shook his head slightly. "No," he said. "I was just trying to get you to… to _talk _to me."

"Well I don't need to talk!"

"I think you do."

She stood up then, and threw the blanket at him angrily. "I don't care what you think!" she shrieked, pulling at her hair in drug-induced nervousness.

"Fae –"

"Leave!"

"You're high on drugs… I'm not leaving you alone."

The biting retort she had sitting on the edge of her tongue was lost to her as she heard the caring in his voice; the love. It shocked her into silence and almost brought her to tears again but she managed to keep herself in control, somewhat.

"So water really does 'melt' you so to say," he said with a small, teasing smile; trying to lighten to mood.

She frowned; faked annoyance. "Burns me is more accurate of a description," she replied. For some reason telling him her secret did not terrify her as much as she thought it would.

"I truly am sorry for striking you," he said as he stood up.

She nodded. "I know."

"Can you forgive me?" He moved to hold her hand in reassurance but she instinctively pulled away from him before catching herself. She sighed.

"In time," she whispered as she turned her head to look at the wall instead of him. "But try to understand. I've been hurt by men before and it just… it will take time before my instinct to pull away from you goes away."

"I do understand."

She smiled. He truly was a father to her, she could feel it now. "I had an affair with Fiyero Tiggular of the Vinkus," she suddenly said. She closed her eyes as the memories assaulted her and sat down on her bed incase she should faint from the overwhelming emotions swirling in her. "And now he has fathered a child with Glinda."

"Glinda the Good?" Garivon asked as he sat down beside her.

She nodded. "Yes. Glinda the Good, Glinda the Good Witch of the North, Glinda Upland of the Upper Uplands, my roommate at Shiz, and my first real friend. My… my _best_ friend."

Suddenly Garivon understood why she had been so distraught upon her return from the palace square, why she had turned to the drugs to calm her racing emotions. To hear that the man you loved was having a child with your best friend would hurt anyone. But for Elphaba, who had so little left in her life, it was deathly painful.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

He patted her hand gently. "That doesn't mean I can't be sorry still."

"They have both betrayed me." Her body began to tremble as she desperately tried to keep her emotions in check.

"They think you're dead," he said. He was trying to help her rationalize the reasons behind her friends' actions. He was trying to help lessen the pain in her heart. But for all his pretty words and wisdom of the world he could not help her – not this time.

"I'd like to be alone now," she told him.

"Of course," he replied, "but first hand over the rest of the drugs."

She inhaled sharply at his words. "Why?" she asked quietly, her voice shaking.

"I can live with your drinking, even your self-harming, but the drugs are too dangerous. You lose yourself to them and it scares me." He squeezed her hand. "I get the feeling that you've fallen too deep into them before and I am an old man Fae, I cannot promise that I will be able to save you if you get caught in their grip. And I don't want to see you lose yourself. I don't want to see your life claimed by them."

She nodded and stood up; letting her hand slip from his hold. She walked to her dresser and opened the first drawer – fished through her clothing until she found the small bag she both loved and hated. She gently scooped the last of the drugs that remained on her dresser into the bag, acutely aware of Garivon's gaze on her, and walked back to him. He held out his hand and Elphaba found that is was far easier than she ever imagined it would be for her to hand over her horrible vice.

"Thank you," he said before he stood up. He placed a gentle, fatherly kiss on her cheek – the cheek he had struck mere minutes earlier – before leaving her room and returning to his bar upstairs before the drunken men got to rowdy without him.

Elphaba sat down on her bed and watched her hands as they twisted together. She listened to the sounds of drunken men upstairs as the last of the drugs was flushed from her system. She had to lunge for the chamber pot as her body violently began to reject the torment she had put it through and her small dinner was forced from her stomach. When she was done she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood up. She dressed in the thick clothing that hid her skin, arranging the shawls and cloth around her face so only her eyes showed.

She trudged up the stairs then and smiled through the somewhat sheer shawl around her face at Garivon in thankfulness as she settled down at the piano. She began to play, a lighter tune than what normally came from her fingers, and for the rest of the night a small smile teased the edge of her lips.


	9. Chapter Eight

_She trudged up the stairs then and smiled through the somewhat sheer shawl around her face at Garivon in thankfulness as she settled down at the piano. She began to play, a lighter tune than what normally came from her fingers, and for the rest of the night a small smile teased the edge of her lips._

--

**Chapter Eight:**

Just under four months later Elphaba found herself in the market of the Emerald City. She was desperately hungry but she had spent the last of her money on a newspaper with a cover story to do with Fiyero and Glinda. The article had done nothing but bring her pain and she had crumpled it up in her hands and tossed it away only a few minutes after she had started to read it.

Then she made a decision that changed her life forever.

She walked past a storefront with a display of fruits; apples, oranges, grapes, pears, and other such things. Her gloved hand snuck out from her pocket and deftly grabbed an apple as she went by. She had done it so many times over the years that it was a second nature to her. She did not even fear being caught for she had never been caught before.

Until today.

The man grabbed her arm, spun her around, and his face was right at hers. He was tall, he had to slouch to be face to face to her, and rather large. She could see the anger in his face and she tried to shrink away from his terrifying eyes.

"You dare to steal from me!" he screamed.

Elphaba opened her mouth to speak but his backhand startled her and the apple she held dropped from her grasp. He dragged her into his store, threw her against the wall. "I try to make an honest living and her dare to thieve from me!"

"Sir… I'm… I'm sorry!" Elphaba stammered out. "Please… I… I can work to repay it if you want!" She feared him; she could sense he was man capable of committing horrors should he feel it was justified.

"I don't need a thief to work for me!" He grabbed her right arm then and hauled her forward, slammed her arm down on the table. The few customers in the store quickly left – too afraid to get caught up in the storekeeper's anger – this, as far as they were concerned, was not their fight. "A thief must be punished," he said, his voice suddenly quietly but laced with anger. He reached for something at his hip but Elphaba couldn't see what. A pit of dread grew in her stomach. "Hopefully this will teach you a lesson!" he shrieked in a blind fury.

Before she could even comprehend what was happening he pulled the knife from its holster at his hip and swung it towards her arm. She screamed as his aim struck true and the knife cut through her wrist. She jerked backwards, desperate to free herself, and her magick poured from her – threw him backwards. He hit the wall and yelped in surprise.

"Get out!" he screamed. "You bloody Witch! Get out of my shop!"

She ran then; clutching her bleeding, mutilated hand to her body. She ran for nearly half an hour – darting between the crowded streets and staying to the back alleyways as much as she could – until she stumbled into the door to the bar. Garivon looked up at her entrance and watched her in concern as she stood hutched over, gasping for breath, and smelling of sweat and blood.

"Fae?" he questioned.

She fell to her knees, clutching her hand to her chest, and tried to find her voice but all that came from her throat were choked sobs as the pain, without the adrenaline to hide it, began to overwhelm her. Garivon approached her slowly, so as not to startle her, and kneeled down in front of her. "What has happened?" he questioned but he still got no response. "Fae… you're bleeding. Are you injured?"

She nodded and thrust her right arm towards him. At the end of it her hand hung lip, mostly severed, from her limb. The bone had been completely cut through and only a few tendons and a small flap of skin kept her hand connected to the rest of her body. The blood flowed freely and at a pace for too fast.

Garivon stared in horror. It took him a few moments before he could collect his thoughts and spring into action. He gently wrapped the towel he kept tucked into his waistband around the injured wrist and helped Elphaba to stand. He led her up the stairs to where he lived – a place Elphaba had never been in – and sat her down at his small kitchen table. He laid her wounded arm on the table. "Your hand cannot be saved," he said quietly as he searched a drawer for his cleaving knife – the knife he used to cut the heads off the rabbits and hens he often ate.

She nodded but could not find her voice. He returned to the table with the knife in his hand. "This is going to hurt," he whispered, "but the hand must be removed." He gave her a small cloth and she took it with her uninjured hand; shoved it in her mouth so that she would not bite her tongue.

He removed the towel from the bleeding arm. "Are you ready?" he asked. She nodded as she bit down on the cloth in her mouth. He lined up the knife and swung it quickly, effectively, and in a single moment the green hand was completely separated from the rest of her green body. She cried out through the cloth in her mouth and lurched forwards; was forced to swallow back the bile that crept into the back of her mouth.

He quickly stood her up and led the dazed and light-headed Elphaba to the adjourning room – the small sitting room – where a fire raged in the fireplace. "We can't stitch up the wound, it's too large," he tried to explain. "It must be cauterized."

Elphaba panicked at that and tried to pull away but the blood-loss had made her weak and disoriented. Garivon grabbed the iron metal stick by the fireplace that he used to move the wood and keep the fire going and shoved it into the base of the flames. He sat Elphaba down in the nearest chair and kept his hand tightly clenched over her gaping wound to try and still the bleeding as much as he could. When the iron stick became red with the heat he pulled it from the fire. "Don't look," he instructed at the petrified green woman before him and Elphaba turned her head away.

She screamed the instant the hot iron touched her arm. She tried to pull away but Garivon kept a firm hold on her arm and kept her still. She bit down on the cloth in her mouth and tears coursed down her face. The pain was horrible and she kept swallowing bile back down her throat so that she would not choke on it. The cauterization took less than ten seconds but for Elphaba it seemed like hours of constant, burning pain that seemed to radiate up her whole arm. When it was finally done and the skin had been melted shut over the wound Garivon let go of her arm and she lurched forward, doubling over herself, and proceeded to spit out the cloth in her mouth and empty the contents of her stomach onto Garivon's bare floor.

She slid out of the chair, wrapping her arms around her stomach, and began to dry-heave. Garivon sat down beside her and took her in his arms, held her close. She took in choking gasps, her chest heaving with the effort, as the pain coursed through her. He held her until he body failed her and the pain sent her slipping into unconsciousness. He picked her up then and carried her down to her room, grabbing a bottle of whiskey on his way, and placed her on her bed – setting the whiskey on the small nightstand. He returned to the kitchen and grabbed a generous amount of gauze before returning back to Elphaba's room. He wrapped the mutilated arm that had been cauterized in desperation as well as his aging, shaking hands could. When he was done he pulled the sheets over her trembling body and tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears. He wiped the salty tears from her face with his sleeve and then kissed her forehead gently.

"What shall become of you now?" he asked but nothing answered him save the silence that had settled in the room. "Who would dare to mutilate you so?"

She did not hear his words but even in the grips of unconsciousness she heard his voice and his voice comforted her. It made the unconsciousness easier on her exhausted mind and soon she was more asleep than unconscious.

When Elphaba awoke, the next day, she was utterly horrified.


	10. Chapter Nine

_When Elphaba awoke, the next day, she was utterly horrified._

--

**Chapter Nine:**

She locked herself in her room and would not even speak to Garivon when he called her name through the door. For nine days she did not eat and the only thing that passed through her lips was the whiskey that Garivon had left for her. Her wound was terribly sore to the touch and she could not stand to even look at it. She kept it shoved in her pocket and tried to force the horrible truth out of her mind.

The crash startled Garivon and nearly made him drop the box he was trying to get from the top shelf. He rushed down the stairs and called Elphaba's name through the door but, like always, she did not respond. But this time was different. This time he did not hear her rustling about like normal. He did not hear her pacing around her room as had become habit of hers. He heard nothing, and that frightened him.

He might be old but he was not, in anyway, weak. He took a few steps back, lowered his shoulder, and charged the door. It burst open as he struck it and he stumbled through, nearly stepping on Elphaba's crumpled body, and kneeled down by her side. He felt for a pulse at her neck and – to his relief – found one. It was weak and sputtering but it was there, which gave him great relief. He placed his hand on the side of her face and called her name. No response. He sighed and scooped her up in his arms, brought her up to his own room in the upper floor where it was warmer. He set her down on his bed, which was far softer, and pulled the sheets over her. He grabbed a chair from the kitchen and set it beside the bed where he sat down. He held her only remaining hand in reassurance and waited.

It took almost forty minutes before she began to wake up. Garivon stood up at the first sign of her waking and when her eyes finally fluttered opened she was met with his concerned face looking down at her. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like shit."

He smiled sadly at her. "So I would imagine."

She closed her eyes briefly to still her spinning vision. "What happened?"

"I believe you fainted."

"Fainted?" she asked in surprise as she opened his eyes to look at him questioningly.

"Yes. That is what happens when someone refuses to eat for an extended period of time."

"I wasn't refusing to eat," she snapped out, trying to protect her fragile self-esteem with biting words.

"Whether you meant to eat or not is not the point. The point is you _weren't_."

"Does it matter?"

He sighed and sat down in his chair, keeping his hand protectively around Elphaba's remaining left hand. "You're going to starve to death if you don't eat so yes, it does matter."

She turned her head to look at the opposite wall. "I stole an apple," she muttered. "And he… he cut off my hand for it."

Garivon was shocked. "You steal?" he asked. "Do I not give you enough payment to survive?"

"You do," she replied as she slowly shifted her position so that she was sitting up; her back resting against the wall behind her. "I just… spend it on frivolous things. And stealing is not new to me. I've done it since a fled from the Wizard twenty-one – or is it twenty-two now? – years ago."

"Frivolous things?"

"I spent it on a newspaper with a story about Fiyero and Glinda and their oh-so-perfect lives together!" she spat out. "Useless stuff! Half of it probably isn't even true!"

"Calm down." Garivon squeezed her hand, tried to get her to relax, but she refused.

"Calm down!" she shrieked as she turned to look at him then, her eyes flashing. She thrust her right arm, her wounded arm, towards him. "How can you tell me to calm down when I have lost my hand!" She was beside herself. "I am more of a freak than I have ever been!"

"Fae –"

"I cannot even play piano for you anymore! I am useless! Just like always! And you will cast me out because I cannot do my job and I will have to make the choice between being a whore again or simply turning myself in!"

Garivon looked horrified at Elphaba's outburst. "I'm not going to throw you out," he said. "I care too much for you to leave you like that."

Her face fell at his words and the carefully constructed mask she had created so many years ago finally shattered completely. Garivon saw the pain and despair in her eyes as plainly as he could see her green skin. And he saw her desperate desire to be loved, to feel needed and accepted.

"You never had a father, did you?" he questioned in a mere whispered.

She kept her eyes locked on his as she shook her head, unable to form any words around the lump in her throat.

"You've been hurt deeply, haven't you? Scarred by men multiple times over, haven't you?"

She nodded again, finding it nearly impossible to hold her tears back.

"Betrayed by friends and left behind, alone, to fend for yourself, right?"

She closed her eyes, focused on take deep breaths to prevent her tears from escaping her control, and nodded once again.

"I'm not going to leave you," he said. "But I'm sure you've heard that before, even had such a thing promised to you, and been betrayed. I don't know how I can make you trust me but know this. I am old Fae, and my days are running out. I cannot promise to be beside you for the rest of your life because I will not live that long. But I can assure you that as long as you feel the need to stay under my roof you are welcomed to. And as long as you find comfort in my presence I will be here for you. But do not leave because you feel you are a burden to me because you are _not_." He squeezed her hand tighter and she opened her eyes to stare at him.

He was crying; silent tears that slowly traced paths down his wrinkled face.

"You told me I was like a father to you," he continued, his voice suddenly choked with emotion. "Well I must confess that you have grown on me and you, if I may be so bold as to say, feel like a daughter to me."

She smiled at him and the utter useless that had settled inside of her since the cruel shopkeeper had cut her hand off seemed to lessen slightly – replaced by gratitude and thankfulness and a love for this old man who had become the father she had always needed and had spent her whole life desperately searching for.

She reached for him, enveloped him in a tight embrace. He was shocked at first by how willingly the green woman had touched him but he soon returned the hug. She buried her head in his boney shoulder. "If you need help with anything, anything at all," she choked out, "and I can do it I will help without a single question. Just ask and I will be there, I promise."

They stayed like that for awhile, finding comforting in each other's touch. For Garivon it was a chance to redeem himself – to help someone when he had been unable to help his own family. For Elphaba it was a chance to heal – to find comfort in the parental love she had never had before. It was different then the love she had shared with Fiyero because this wasn't on stolen time like her affair with the Vinkus prince had been. This wasn't a secret she was afraid to speak of incase it should shatter as soon as it was acknowledged.

This was how her childhood should have been.


	11. Chapter Ten

_This was how her childhood should have been._

--

**Chapter Ten:**

Time went on, dragging Elphaba and Garivon with it. For a few days Garivon had feared that he would lose his green daughter – for he had come to think of her as his daughter – as an infection set in to her wound and fever overtook her body. She was racked with sweats and delusions and he could not bear to leave her in such a state so he sat by her side for the four days it took for the fever to break. At one point the infection had settled so deeply into the injury that he had had to lance it, letting the blood and fluid drain into a small bucket, before being forced to cauterize the wound again. Elphaba had flinched as the hot iron touched her skin but even such great a pain could not wake her from the unconsciousness that the fever had trapped her in.

When the fever finally broke Garivon had felt a wonderful sense of relief burst inside of him. It wasn't until a few hours later that Elphaba finally opened her eyes and returned to the world of the living. She looked at him and smiled, seeming to know already what had happened to her.

The world kept spinning and lives were carried on. Glinda had her child with Fiyero, a tiny baby girl, and when Elphaba had heard the news she had felt her heart squeeze into nothingness inside of her. There had been a gathering at the palace square where the tiny bundle of joy was introduced to Oz – Elphaba did not go. She tried her best to forget that they even existed because it was easier that way.

When she was not helping Garivon with the bar – she had learnt to be a waitress, to balance the trays of drinks on her stub where her hand should be – she spent much of her time teaching herself how to write again. She had always favoured her right hand and had always written with it and her usually neat and tidy writing was messy and scraggly and altogether ugly looking as she realized, for the first time, how little motor-control she really had in her left hand.

At the same time that she practiced writing she also did her best to teach Garivon, if he was up to it, how to write. The old man could read, to some extent, but he had never learnt to write and it was something that kept him busy for there was little else he could do in his aging life.

Elphaba celebrated her forty-third birthday with a tiny cake and a day off. Garivon celebrated his seventy-first birthday with an even smaller cake and over a week off. Glinda and Fiyero's child celebrated her first birthday with a lavish party and far more gifts than any one-year old could ever need.

Soon the bar became more of Elphaba's responsibility than Garivon's as he was becoming weaker and sicker as each day passed them by. The drunken men knew that Elphaba used to play the piano for them and they always begged her, in their stupid, drunken way, to play again but she refused. She had let the hems down on the sleeves to all her clothing and the extra fabric was enough to hide the fact that she was missing her right hand unless you knew to look. She kept it a carefully guarded secret because she was utterly ashamed of her amputated hand.

Elphaba awoke one day and trudged up the stairs to the bar to find that Garivon was not there to greet her as was usual. Concerned she quietly made her way up his set of stairs to his floor of the house above the bar. She knocked on the door but got no answer so she pulled out the hairpin that kept her hair in the knot at the base of her neck and used it to pick the lock.

"Garivon?" she called as she entered. No response. She walked down the small hallway and pushed opened the door to his room to find him lying on his bed. In a moment of utter terror she thought that he was dead until she saw his chest moving up and down beneath his thick blankets. "Are you well?" she asked.

He turned to look at her and smiled weakly. "My time is coming," he said, his voice hoarse and dry.

Elphaba shook her head and sat down on the edge of his bed; played with her hair with her remaining hand to try and distract herself. "No," she said, far harsher then she intended. She couldn't bear the thought of losing another person she loved. "Not yet, it's… it's too soon."

"I'm seventy-one Fae, I've had a good run." He reached for her hand and she slipped it into his hold. He squeezed it as best as his weak body could allow him to.

"I can't live without you." She stared at the ground so he wouldn't see the tears pooling in her eyes.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

She frowned. "You're not the first person to tell me that."

"Malky did too, didn't he?"

She looked up at him suddenly. "You knew Malky?" she asked, shocked.

"Of course, we were partners in the revolution before he left to help you."

"He… he _left_ the revolution for… for me?"

Garivon smiled in amusement. "There was quite the uproar from the higher ups but he was determined to save you. Kept saying something about owing you his life or something of the such."

Her mouth opened in shock and she just stared at him disbelief. "Then the… the furniture in my home, above the corn exchange… that was you, wasn't it? You were the friend Malky said brought it, weren't you?"

"Me and a few others but yes, it was me. Malky asked for a favour and I remembered you from the nights you used to spend at my bar. I felt compelled to help."

"You only knew me as the strange green whore who sold her body to survive," she whispered. "You only knew me as a prostitute and yet you weren't disgusted… you still wanted to help me." She couldn't believe what she was hearing, it was too… impossible… to be true.

They fell into silence and Elphaba dropped her gaze to the ground. "I want you to close the bar," Garivon said. "I cannot keep it opened in my state and you should not be held back by the responsibility of it."

"Right now?"

"Open it tonight for the last time but when you close it you close forever, and make sure the men know that, okay?"

She nodded her understanding. "I don't want to watch you die," she whispered.

"There's still some fight in me left."

"Is there anything I can get for you?"

Garivon smiled and nodded. "As a matter of fact yes, yes there is."

And so it began. Elphaba did her best to help Garivon as his life slowly slipped from his grasp and Garivon did his best to help lessen the pain that his slow death was causing the green woman he cherished.


	12. Chapter Eleven

_And so it began. Elphaba did her best to help Garivon as his life slowly slipped from his grasp and Garivon did his best to help lessen the pain that his slow death was causing the green woman he cherished._

--

**Chapter Eleven:**

Elphaba stood at the door to Garivon's room. "I'm going," she said quietly, "and I don't mean to come back."

Garivon was sitting up, his back propped against the wall, slowly reading the newspaper. He frowned, folded the newspaper up, and looked at Elphaba. "Why am I not surprised?" he said with a smile.

"I don't mean to abandon you." Her voice was choked with both guilt and grief. "I just cannot sit here and watch you die. If another person I love dies in my arms I don't think I'll be able to bear the grief."

"You do realize that you're running away."

"There are some things in this world that you have to run away from if you wish to preserve your own self."

He nodded. "That I can understand."

"You shouldn't die alone, it's not right."

"And you shouldn't feel such a terrible grief over my impending death but you do. If not seeing me die means that you can pretend I'm still alive then so be it, I do not mind."

"But –"

"Elphaba –" He rarely used her true name. "– it's okay. I always had a feeling you would leave before I died and I know this is hard for you. I'm not mad at you. I understand."

"But to be alone when you die is horrible!"

"Come here," he said as he beckoned her close. She walked to the side of his bed and he took her hand. "You still have many years ahead of you and many choices you still have to make. I can't claim to know what's in your future or what path you should take but I can only hope that I have helped you in some way… no matter how small."

"You have," she forced out around the lump in her throat. "And you don't know how much it pains me to leave you like this but I just… I have to see to myself for once in my life."

"I'm glad you're doing this. I'm glad you're trying to help yourself. I can see it in your eyes, the determination to _live_ again. Don't you ever lose that, okay?"

She nodded.

"Promise me."

"I do," she whispered. "I promise. I swear to you and any god that is listening. I will save myself. I will make you proud."

"I'm glad."

She closed her eyes briefly to hold her tears back. "I'm going to go now," she said. "And I hope you find your peace and see your family again. You deserve it. You have helped me greatly and there is nothing I could ever do to repay you."

His hand reached up to caress the side of her face. "Your presence in my life has been more than enough repayment."

She was touched by his words; by the way he loved her so completely. "You're the father I never had," she whispered.

"And you the daughter I lost so long ago."

She opened her eyes, smiled at him through the grief in her eyes. "I'm going to miss you," she said.

"And I shall miss you. But like any good father I must let my child go when the time comes and the time has come for you to start on your new life by yourself."

"I'm afraid."

"It's okay to be a little afraid," he said with a smile, "it keeps us on our toes."

She nodded and slowly backed away from him, her hand slipping from his hold. She fled the room then, ran down the stairs, and rested against a wall in the now closed bar. She closed her eyes, took deep breaths, and tried to swallow away her grief. She bit her lower lip until it bled and she could taste the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She focused on breathing to try and calm her racing heart. What she was about to do would put her life in someone else's hand and that was such a terrifying prospect that it was freezing her mind up – making it nearly impossible for her to think coherently.

She grabbed one of the remaining bottles of whiskey and took a swig; a gulp of liquid courage. She grabbed her bag which was sitting on the bar table – filled with her clothing, the Grimmerie, and the looking glass that she had somehow managed to hold on to for all these years – and swung it over her shoulder. She grabbed her ratted broom that was so charred from when Dorothy had come to her at Kiamo Ko that even when she did manage to get it to fly for her it flew erratically and was simply far too dangerous to use unless she needed it to.

She did not intend to use it today.

She went to the door, acutely aware that she wore only a heavy long-sleeved winter frock and her boots – which were untied as with only one hand securing the laces in a knot was impossible and something she no longer bothered to try after many failed attempts. The hand clutched around the burnt handle of the broom was bare to the world, as was her face, and her green skin was clear for all to see. Her hair was not in its customary knot for today she had let it fall down her back and it was incredibly long now; ending at the small of her back, just before the curve of her hips.

Elphaba Thropp opened the door and stepped into the streets of the Emerald City without even attempting to hide her coloured skin and what it labeled her as. She began to walk towards the palace, determined to get there without being distracted, and took no heed of the people who saw her and recognized her.

In the midday sun the people of Oz could not believe their eyes as, to them, the Wicked Witch of the West had come back to life.


	13. Chapter Twelve

_In the midday sun the people of Oz could not believe their eyes as, to them, the Wicked Witch of the West had come back to life._

--

**Chapter Twelve:**

When she reached the gates into the palace square they were closed shut – there was no public announcement to be made today so the gates were not opened. But Elphaba was not fazed as she walked right up to the guard who was busy filing some paper work, or something of the such.

"I would like to have an audience with Glinda the Good."

"She does not take audiences," the guard replied without even looking up from where he sat behind his brick booth meant to protect him.

"I would like an audience with her."

"Are you deaf ma'am?" the guard said distractedly. "She is not seeing anyone, no matter whom. In case you did not hear she has a child to raise. A beautiful young daughter in fact."

"I demand to have an audience with Glinda Upland, the Good Witch of the North!"

The guard finally looked up at her in annoyance. "I told you –" His words fell short as he saw her green skin, her black hair, her piercing brown eyes. "The Witch!" he screamed. "The Wicked Witch of the West!"

The sliding door of the booth was slammed shut as an alarm began to ring out around the palace. Elphaba sighed and closed her eyes, waited for the guards to storm her. She was quite surprised that she had managed to walk all the way to the palace – which was not a short trek by any means – before any guards were alerted to her presence. Perhaps the people of Oz who had seen her had been too shocked to report her, or too afraid. After all, it is not every day that a dead person comes back to life.

The guards surrounded her in a circle, she stared them down. "I will give you my broom and my bag… which contains the magicked Grimmerie… if you let me have an audience with Glinda."

"You have no right to such a thing you witch!" one of the guards shouted. A crowd of people had surrounded them, terrified yet curious about what was happening.

"I knew Glinda the Good when she was just Galinda Upland! I have every right to talk to her!"

The guard who seemed to be the one in charge stepped forwards slightly, his gun pointed at her. "We could shoot you now, kill you."

"I am a Witch, do you think bullets can kill me? I have died once before, I could die again. Don't you know?" She smiled at him, trying to put on a front of being more powerful than she really was. "A witch cannot die."

She saw their guns shaking, their resolve faltering. "My broom and my book just to talk to her. I think that's a fair trade, don't you?"

"We cannot permit you to be alone with Glinda the Good!"

"I never said anything about being alone. I just want to talk to her, even if I stand there in the courtyard and she is up on her high balcony. I don't care… I just want to see her, to talk to her, to show her that I am still alive. I owe her that."

"Owe her?"

"You have no hope of ever possibly understanding." She held her burnt broom out to him and the guard took it, though hesitantly. She shrugged her bag off her shoulder and the guard also took that from her.

Then they were upon her. They grabbed her arms, held her still. The barrel of a gun was shoved into her back. The guard in charge grabbed her chin, held her head still, and simply stared at her. She felt the fear growing inside of her, overtaking her, but she did not let it show. She kept her gaze steady on him – trying to be stronger than she felt and hoping that he would not hurt her.

The handle of his gun struck her across the temple. She cried out in pain as it cracked against her skull and broke skin, the blood trailing down the side of her face. Her vision went black for a few moments before returning to her. She blinked rapidly to try and clear away the dots dancing in front of her eyes. "You hit me," she whispered in shock. "I didn't even do anything and you hit me."

He did not reply to her words. Instead he turned around, nodded to the guards, and they dragged her forward through the gates to the palace. Their hands on her arms were tight, rough, and made her tremble in painful memories. There were too many men around her and it was suffocatingly terrifying. She tried to keep herself calm by focusing only on breathing but she could not, so she tried to pretend she was somewhere else.

They brought her up the stairs and then someone struck the side of their gun against the back of her knees and she cried out as they gave way beneath her and she fell to the cold stone. A guard tangled his hand in her hair and pulled, forcing her to straighten up, and placed his gun against her head. "If you so much as breathe too deep I will shoot you," he said and Elphaba gulped. She realized that they were enjoying this; they were enjoying the power they felt they had over the green Witch that had caused all of Oz to tremble in fear so many years ago. They were enjoying this and they were not going to let her free any time soon – and that frightened her terribly.

She felt pitiful and embarrassed as she kneeled on the stone before the grand doors into the palace. She couldn't believe that she had been reduced to nothing more than a criminal in a matter of seconds. She had come here to speak to Glinda, not to be captured.

_You knew this was going to happen, _her mind whispered at her. _You knew they would capture you as soon as they could._

The doors swung open and Elphaba looked up at the sound. She gasped and nearly cried in relief. "Glinda!" she exclaimed before she could stop herself. She got a solid strike to the head with the handle of a gun for her inability to control her mouth.

The blonde stood in the doorway, flanked by guards on either side, and stared at the green woman before her in shock. Glinda had grown slightly plumper over the years; it seemed she had not quite lost the weight she had gained while pregnant. Elphaba didn't think it looked bad though. In all actuality she found that it suited the blonde better to have a little extra weight on her frame.

"Elphie?" the blonde breathed, pulling Elphaba out of her thoughts. "Elphaba Thropp? Elphie, my old roommate?"

"Miss Glinda, it's the Wicked Witch of the West," the main guard said. "We managed to wrestle her broom and this book she called 'the Grimmerie' from her."

"Wrestle?" Elphaba laughed. "I gave them to you to speak to Glinda! Don't listen to them Glinda! Your fool of guards did not capture me, I gave myself up!"

Another strike to her head for her words. She choked back a yelp of pain and closed her eyes to still her spinning vision.

"Don't you dare hurt her!" Glinda screamed at the guards. She kneeled down in front of the green woman, gently wiped away the blood from the gash at her temple. "Elphie, is it really you?"

Elphaba opened her eyes, stared into Glinda's blue eyes and those brown orbs lacked the pride and strength that Glinda remembered her green friend as always having – even during the worst of times. "I can't do it anymore," Elphaba muttered. "I can't keep running away. I can't keep hiding in the shadows being ashamed of who I am. I never meant to be wicked, I never meant to do all those horrible things I did. It just… it all got so out of control. I'm sorry. I'm so very, very sorry."

"You died," Glinda whispered and it was clear that she was still having great difficulty in coming to terms with Elphaba being alive, even though the green woman was right before her. "Dorothy killed you. Melted you!"

"You really thought a bucket of water would kill me Glinda?" Elphaba smiled in sadness. "I jumped in a lake when I was a child – remember? – and did not die."

"But there was nothing left!"

Elphaba shrugged. "I cannot explain Glinda… I know no more than you. It all happened so fast and I wasn't thinking straight. I just… woke up and I was still alive."

Glinda nodded, tears in her eyes, as she still seemed to be struggling to comprehend seeing someone she thought long dead before her. She stood up then and turned to the guard that was in charge. "Release her," she ordered.

"Miss Glinda," the guard tried to reason with her. "This is the Wicked Witch! We cannot just let her walk free!"

"She was never wicked! Don't you see? The whole thing was a horrible lie created by the Wizard himself!"

"We cannot release her. She is too powerful, too dangerous. She cannot be trusted."

"Glinda," Elphaba whispered and the blonde turned to face her friend again. "I came here to put my life in your hands. I know that's selfish, I know it's wrong, but it's the only thing I can do. You can either stand with me or you can send me to the Southstairs and let me rot away in a cell. I'm too old to live like this – to hide away just because I am green."

"I'm not sending you to the Southstairs!" Glinda was horrified that Elphaba could even considered that she would do such a thing. "Oh, oh Elphie!" She grabbed Elphaba's arm and pulled her up, forcing the guard to let go of her hair and step backwards, and enveloped her old friend in a tight embrace. She was forced to stand on her toes as she buried her head in Elphaba's chest and sobbed as guilt began to overwhelm her. "Oh, Elphie!" she choked out. "Why didn't you come to me sooner? Didn't you know I would've helped you? Didn't you know I would've stood with you?"

"Because of the Wizard," Elphaba whispered as she ran her hand through Glinda's hair to comfort her friend. "I was afraid he would turn on you if you helped me. He was politically powerful Glinda, far too powerful for anyone's good."

A guard suddenly grabbed Elphaba's shoulder, yanked her backwards. She cried out in shock as he pinned her arms behind her back and forced her to her knees.

"She's going to the Southstairs," the main guard said. "She has obviously witched you, Miss Glinda, and we cannot allow such a thing to occur."

Glinda laid flashing eyes on the guard. "She has not witched me! She is not a monster! I order you to let her go!"

"No."

She lunged at the guard holding Elphaba still but the main guard, the one in charge, grabbed her around her waist and held the flailing blonde against his body. She was too tiny to escape his hold and she screamed at him to let her go. Elphaba just watched in horror as the guard dragged Glinda back into the palace and the doors were shut behind him.

Elphaba was yanked back to her feet, thrown down the stone stairs. She fell into a crumpled heap at the bottom and before she could even gather her bearings someone grabbed her hair and pulled her up, shoved his gun into her back.

"You can't do this!" Elphaba shrieked as fear began to cloud her mind. "You heard Glinda! She told you to set me free! You can't go against her! She's Glinda the Good for Oz's sake!"

The guard twisted her arm up her back to the point of nearly breaking it – which caused Elphaba to whimper in pain and terror. "Shut your mouth you witch," he hissed at her. "You're not getting free this time!" He tossed her to the ground, shoved the heel of his foot into the small of her back, and laughed at her. "If you were as great as you once were you would have cast us aside a long time ago. Are you really this weak now? Or are you nothing without that silly broom of yours?"

She bit her lip and did her best not to cry out. Hands grabbed her arms and hoisted her back to her feet. She was taken through the palace gates and to the Southstairs prison which, she realized, was situated dangerously close to the palace. She was dragged down the spiraling staircase and tossed into a cell as if she was nothing more than garbage. The air was stale and she realized, to her horror, that she was underground. The cell was no more than six feet by six feet and the ceiling was so low that if she were to stand on her toes her head would touch it. There was no bed, only a chamber pot in the corner, and Elphaba's claustrophobia set in instantly.

The bars slid shut and were locked in place. She lunged for them, her remaining hand clasping around the cold metal of one of the bars. "Let me out!" she screamed. "Glinda told you to let me go! You can't keep me locked up down here!"

"Stop your screaming or else we'll have to teach you a lesson!" the guard snapped out.

Elphaba fell silent; she could hear the anger in his voice. She feared pushing her luck because she did not know how far these men would go to keep her under control. She wished for her magick to show itself, to overwhelm her and help her to escape this damned prison.

But it did not.

She cursed herself for her weakness, for her inability to control the powers she knew were residing within her. For all her efforts and all her work she still could not call upon her magickal abilities on will – they showed themselves when they decided to. It frustrated her and, at the moment, made her incredibly angry.

She curled up in the far corner of the cell, hugging her legs to her chest, and buried her head into her knees. She choked back sobs and tried to calm her racing heart. She had been fully aware that this could happen but for some reason she had thought that Glinda would fight for her freedom harder. But it seems that the love for the blonde she still held was not returned by Glinda.

That night one of the guards that had taken her down to her cell returned. He came with food for her but wanted far more than he was entitled to. She tried to fight him but she was too weak. She screamed for help but no one cared to come to her aid.

He stripped her naked and nearly raped her but stopped for some reason Elphaba did not understand – perhaps guilt? – before the horrible deed could be done. Still, in the morning he laughed with the other guards as he told them that the Wicked Witch was indeed green _everywhere_.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_In the morning he laughed with the other guards as he told them that the Wicked Witch was indeed green _everywhere_._

--

**Chapter Thirteen:**

"Elphaba's alive."

Fiyero visibly jumped at Glinda's words. He spun around to face her. "She's _what_?" he barked.

Glinda was shocked. It took her a few moments to gather her thoughts as Fiyero stared at her; looking frantic and deranged and – was that guilt she saw on his face? "Fiyero, Elphie is alive. She came to the palace mere minutes ago."

"Where is she?"

"She was taken to the Southstairs."

"_What_?" Fiyero screamed. He moved to leave the room, to head to the Southstairs and free the woman he had once loved so fiercely. But Glinda grabbed his arm as he ran past her and halted his movements.

"We cannot just barge in there and break her free!" Glinda spat out. "Do you think I wanted to watch them take her there? We need to free her the _right_ way. Don't you understand that?"

Fiyero stared at her in anger. "We cannot let her stay there! That prison, Glinda, _you_ don't understand!"

"If we want her to be free… and I mean really free… we have to free her lawfully. Do you want the council to turn against us as well? If we are to have any hope of helping her, which she so desperately needs, then we need to do this the proper way. We _need_ to follow the law in this!"

"But –"

"Do you think _I_ want to do this?" Glinda screamed as tears pooled in her eyes, blurred her vision. "Do you think I want to feel this despairingly guilty only minutes after feeling so ecstatic? She was there Fiyero! Elphaba was there! Right in front of me! She talked to me and oh… oh, Fiyero… her voice… it's just like I remembered. It's like no time had passed between us…" Glinda trailed off. "But then… then they took her away. They wouldn't listen to me. They thought she had witched me. But she… oh, Fiyero… what are we to do now? We have to free her but I just don't know how. The Wizard, he tarnished her name so badly, how are we to convince people otherwise? How!"

Fiyero took Glinda in a tight embrace and let the blonde cry into his chest. She was hysterical and he felt guilty for how, at that particular moment, all he wanted to do was abandon her and run to Elphaba's side. His young self, the part of him that had died the night the Gale Force had nearly killed him and tore Elphaba away, wanted to free Elphaba and run away with her. Run far, far away.

But he stayed. He stayed with Glinda and held her close as she cried because in the back of his mind was the nagging voice of his morality. He had a child with Glinda and that should be worth more to him than an old affair with the strange green girl of Shiz University. How could he even think of abandoning Glinda the Good and his child for nothing more than an old flame that could, for all he knew, no longer be true. He still loved Elphaba, loved her far more than he had ever loved another, but did she love him back? She had thought him dead, and she had probably blamed herself for his death, so it made sense that she would have moved on. It was time that he did the same.

So as Fiyero Tiggular of the Vinkus stood in his study, holding the distraught Glinda in his arms, he realized what he must do; he had to lock away his memories of Elphaba and the love he held for her behind iron walls in his mind where he knew, even though it pained him, that he could never let himself feel such things again.

Glinda was his lover now, and their child bound them together. And that was a tie that not even Elphaba could be allowed to break. They had shared their love – the dark-skinned Vinkus Prince and the green-skinned Wicked Witch – and their time together was over. _We can't even be friends, _Fiyero thought to himself in bitterness. _For if I so much as talk to her I will fall back in love and I cannot allow such a thing to happen_.

Fiyero suddenly realized, at that very moment, that he would never truly be happy again.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_Fiyero suddenly realized, at that very moment, that he would never truly be happy again._

--

**Chapter Fourteen:**

It took over two months before she was saved. Two months of claustrophobia and night-time visits from the guards. Her spirit had been shattered as she wasn't strong enough anymore to fight for herself. She had tried to start anew and once again she was reduced to nothing more than someone else's whore; a prisoner to be used only for her body. It made her head ache to think of the terrible circle her life was – how everything just kept on repeating itself. She could not escape it no matter how hard she tried.

"Elphie?"

The green woman looked up from her customary position huddled in the corner. She squinted through the darkness. "Glinda?" she asked in disbelief.

The blonde was smiling. A guard unlocked the cell door, slid the bars opened, and gestured for Elphaba to leave. She watched him intently, looking at him in shock. "What is the meaning of this?" she asked.

"You are free to leave," the guard said. "You can thank Miss Glinda here for that."

Elphaba stood up, keeping a hand on the wall to support her trembling body. She had eaten very little while she was contained in the cell for her hunger had fled her just like her spirit had. She laid piercing eyes on the blonde. "You're a little late," she spat out. The torment she had endured as a prisoner in the Southstairs had made her bitter and her tongue acid.

"Whatever do you mean by that?" Glinda stepped forward – entering the cell – and watched her friend in concern.

"Your guards raped me."

Silence. Glinda's mouth opened in shock and she slowly brought her hand up to cover it in some semblance of decency. She turned her head to look at the guard but he shook his head when he saw the accusing look she was giving him. "She lies," he said. "No guards of mine would do such a horrendous act."

"Really?" Elphaba's tone was biting as she addressed the guard. "If I remember correctly you were the first one to screw me!"

Glinda was horrified beyond belief. "Get out," she said to the guard. He didn't move. "Get out!" she shrieked. "Leave this place and never come back! You are dismissed from duty! You and all the men that work with you!"

"You cannot fire a whole division of men!" he spat back. "It's unheard of!"

"I believe I just did! Now get out of my sight!" She pointed to the door of the cell. "Get out!"

He left then and Glinda returned her attention back to her friend. "Oh, Elphie…" she murmured. "I tried to get you out earlier but I… they… it was so hard! They wouldn't listen to me!"

"You could have at least visited!" Elphaba snapped out. "Then maybe you could have put a stop to those guards little _fun_ sooner!"

"I would have if I could have!"

"I thought you would fight harder for me! I thought you cared more for me then to let me rot away in some prison cell to be nothing more than a whore for _your_ guards! Where is the Glinda I remember? Because you are not her!"

"I'm trying Elphie! I'm doing my best to clear your name but it's not exactly easy! Do you know what horrors have been associated with you? Do you have any idea!"

"Of course I do! I lived that ridiculous lie! Remember? It was _I _who was the Wicked Witch, not you! And it was _my_ friends and _my_ family that suffered for it! Not yours!"

"And I was the one who was abandoned! I was the one left behind!"

"_You_ were the one abandoned?" Elphaba laughed in disbelief at that. "Who was the one left to fend for themselves? Who was the one with no one there to help her or to stand by her side? It was me Glinda! It was me! I was the one left alone at Kiamo Ko! I was the one with Fiyero's death on her guilty conscious! I was the one who failed at everything she did!"

"My life hasn't been that good either!"

"It looks pretty damn peachy from where I'm standing!"

"You brought your pain upon yourself! You were the one who chose to be the martyr and stand against the Wizard!"

"Oh, so I chose to be a whore? I chose to be locked in a room and raped time and time again just because I was _green_ and everyone wanted to experience the novelty of fucking the green Witch? I didn't choose a life of prostitution I was _forced_ into it because there was no other way for me to get any money!"

"There's always another way!"

"Oh yes… because so many people were willing to employ the great and terrible Wicked Witch of the West! Have you lost your marbles Glinda? I was a fugitive! I'm still a fugitive!"

"Not anymore you stupid woman! I wasn't able to clear your name but I managed to get you a protected official title! You cannot be touched by any of the guards as long as you follow the law!"

"Follow the law?" Elphaba cackled and thrust her right arm out, showing Glinda her missing hand. "All I've known how to do is break the law! I am the very concept of unlawful! I had to steal to survive Glinda! _Steal_! And look what that got me? An angry shopkeeper with a knife who decided to take the law into his own hands and cut off mine! Where is the justice in that? Tell me! Where is it!"

Glinda was stunned. "Someone… _cut_ off your hand?" she whispered in shock; how had she not noticed such a thing before? She stepped forward and slowly took a hold of Elphaba's right arm; gently traced her fingers over the scarred nub that remained where a green hand should be. Elphaba flinched and tried to pull her arm free of the blonde's grasp but Glinda would not let go. "Oh, Elphie… I can't imagine what your life has been. I never meant to leave you all alone but things just… happened."

The anger that had overwhelmed the old friends mere moments ago seemed lost to them now as Elphaba stared at the floor and Glinda stared at her old friend's amputated arm. "People drift apart," Elphaba eventually whispered. "I do not blame you for it. In fact, I'm glad that you found happiness. I'm glad for you."

"Elphie, have _you_ ever been happy?"

The green woman closed her eyes to keep her threatening tears under control. Her mind flashed back to a time in the Emerald City, in the room above the abandoned corn exchange, where the strong arms of a Vinkus prince had kept her warm – kept her safe. "Yes," she whispered, almost inaudible. "For a short time."

"Tell me Elphie. Tell me what I can do to make you happy again."

_Don't,_ Elphaba's mind screamed at her. _Don't do this Glinda! Don't make me tell you! Don't make me ruin your life!_

"Glinda…" Elphaba's voice shook, her words faltered. "Don't… you… Glinda please… I can't tell you."

"You deserve happiness. You deserve a real life. I want to make that happen for you. I just… you need to tell me how." Glinda placed her hand under a green chin and lifted Elphaba's head up. "I can't read your mind Elphie. I can't help you unless you tell me how."

Elphaba opened her eyes, stared at Glinda. She could see the honesty in those blue eyes – the true desire to help her. "Don't leave me," she whispered. "Please Glinda… this time let's… let's stand together, okay?" It wasn't exactly a truthful answer to what would make her happy but Elphaba knew she could not ask Glinda for what she really wanted, what she really desired. She had lost Fiyero to her blonde friend and she could not get him back without ruining more lives than it was worth.

Glinda smiled and took Elphaba's remaining hand in her own, led her from the Southstairs. The guards, obviously not knowing that Glinda had fired them already, flanked them for protection. The walk to the palace was not far but the people of Oz had somehow heard that the Wicked Witch was being freed. They had formed a large crowd that, if the guards had not been there, the two old friends would not have been able to get through. The mob screamed at both of them – angry words blaming Elphaba for all the wrongs in the world and furious words accusing Glinda of betraying them all. It was incredibly loud and hectic and all the noise and suffocating closeness of the angry crowd made Elphaba's head spin and her whole body tremble with fear and panic.

They could barely get in through the gates as as soon as they were opened the crowd tried to get into the courtyard, tried to block the Witch's way in. The guards had to hold them back and Glinda began to run; literally dragging Elphaba behind her. They ducked into the palace and the doors were shut behind them as quickly as possible. They could still hear the noise of the crowds just outside the doors and the palace guards ushered Glinda and Elphaba away from the doors; just incase the crowds should overwhelm the guards outside and break their way inside.

"Mama?"

The tiny voice shocked Elphaba and she turned her head to find a small child in the arms of a man she had thought had died years ago. "Fiyero?" she asked in a breathless whisper. "Fiyero… is that really you?"

"Elphaba," Fiyero said with a small nod. "I'm glad to see you well." He turned his attention to Glinda then; planted a kiss on her cheek. "The people are all riled up," he said to her. "I saw through the window. They're disappointed in you."

What was left of Elphaba's heart shattered at the cold demeanor that Fiyero was showing her. Had he forgotten about their time together in the Emerald City? Or had it never happened? Was it possible that the whole thing had been some insane fake-reality she had created in her mind to give her some semblance of normalcy? It had been so long ago that Elphaba could not be sure – and that scared her.

Glinda took the child in her arms and turned to face her green friend. "This is little Mirelle," she said, dragging Elphaba from her turbulent thoughts. "Our daughter. She's almost eighteen months old."

"She already talks?" Elphaba asked in disbelief. The child in Glinda's arms distracted her from the pain in her heart.

"She can't say much yet but she's learning quickly now that she's started. It's still quite amazing, isn't it? She's going to be a smart one, I can tell." Glinda was beaming with pride and Elphaba could see how happy she was. It made her bitter to see how her friends had moved on with their lives and had found happiness while she still stuck in the circle of pain that her life was.

"She's beautiful," Elphaba said and she was not lying. The daughter of Fiyero and Glinda truly was beautiful. Little Mirelle had just the right balance between Glinda's pale skin and Fiyero's dark colouring. She had the cute chubbiness common of one's as young as she and bright, big blue eyes. Her nose was small and her lips thin – like Glinda but she seemed to be taller than normal for her age – as if she would grow up to the height of Fiyero. She was the perfect balance between the two but Elphaba was not surprised. Two people as beautiful and absolutely perfect in physicality as Fiyero and Glinda would be extremely hard-pressed to create a child that was anything but the model of human perfection.

Elphaba was stunned into silence as Glinda held out the squirming bundle of joy to her. "Take her," Glinda said. "She wants to meet you."

The green woman shook her head. "I… I can't," she stammered out. The thought of even holding a child in her arms made her panic. She couldn't help but think that even her touch would corrupt the pure innocence of a being so perfect as little Mirelle.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic Elphie! It's fine, she's very well-tempered and she likes meeting new people."

"But Glinda what if… she… I just… I can't hold a child!"

Glinda's face fell; she looked awfully confused and a little worried. "Whatever are you talking about?"

Elphaba sighed and found that trying to explain herself was far more difficult than it was worth so she simply nodded – knowing that any words she could find to tell Glinda how she felt would sound even more ridiculous then they did in her head. The blonde smiled and Elphaba took the child awkwardly, balancing the baby against her chest with the crook of her right elbow and keeping her steady with her left hand on her tiny back. Mirelle stared at her, eyes full of awareness and understanding. Small hands reached out to touch a green face; traced across Elphaba's nose, over her mouth, before grabbing long black hair in her fists and pulling with what little strength that she had. Elphaba yelped in surprise as the child tugged at her hair and giggled in amusement. Mirelle put some of the hair in her mouth, chewed it, before spitting it out and tugging it again with all her might.

"She's delightful," Elphaba whispered in awe. She had never really held a baby before. True, she had raised Nessa and Shell but she had still been a child herself then and holding a baby had never made her feel like she felt right now.

Then suddenly the guilt overwhelmed her and she quickly handed Mirelle back to Glinda. The blonde took her child back in surprise. "Elphie?" she asked in worry, handing her daughter over to Fiyero. "Elphie, is something wrong?"

Her memories of Liir, and how she had failed so utterly as a mother, overwhelmed her then and she stepped backwards – away from Glinda. She realized now, seeing Glinda so happy as a mother, that to have a child herself would be amazing, would be wonderful. But she had had her chance and wasted it due to grief, bitterness, and an anger over the unfairness of her life that she had not been able to look passed. She had never held Liir as a baby; had never hugged or kissed him goodnight. She could not even remembering birthing the child she now knew, without a doubt, was her son.

Was Fiyero's son.

He had to know, he deserved to know, but telling him would ruin the relationship he had with Glinda and she couldn't bear the thought of that. So she kept silent and did not speak of the son she had; the son that she had never raised and never cared for like she should have. The son that was now somewhere in Oz doing something with his life that Elphaba would probably never know of. She doubted she would ever see Liir again, or her brother Shell. What had become of them? What were their lives like now? She wished she could see them, could tell them that she was sorry. Especially Liir – she felt incredibly guilty for how she had failed her son.

"Elphie?"

Elphaba blinked as Glinda's voice broke through to her. She found herself lying on the cold stone floor of the hallway with both Glinda and Fiyero kneeling beside her with concern plastered on their faces. "Elphie?" Glinda repeated and her voice sound far too high to Elphaba. "Can you hear me?"

"What happened?" Elphaba asked as she slowly sat up.

Glinda placed her hand on Elphaba's back to steady her. "You kind of fainted, but not really. Your eyes were still opened but you wouldn't respond to us. Are you okay? Do you need something to eat?"

"I'm fine," Elphaba quickly spat out but she closed her eyes in regret as soon as she heard how angry she sounded. "Sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay," Glinda said. "Now come on, you should rest. You've been through a lot lately and I shouldn't have held you out here for so long."

Elphaba nodded but when Glinda tried to help her to stand the hallway spun around her. She had eaten nearly nothing during the two months that she had been in the Southstairs and it had finally caught up to her.

She fainted and Glinda was barely able to catch Elphaba's tall frame and keep her from striking her head against the stone floor.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_She fainted and Glinda was barely able to catch Elphaba's tall frame and keep her from striking her head against the stone floor._

--

**Chapter Fifteen:**

There were angry letters. There were threats on their lives. There were shouting mobs and destructive riots. There were protests and burnt down business.

There was anger.

The people of Oz were furious. The people of Oz felt betrayed. The people of Oz could not even begin to comprehend that the Wicked Witch of the West could be anything _but_ the Wicked Witch of the West – no matter what Glinda the Good said.

And Elphaba became a prisoner. Her cell might have been the large palace of the Emerald City – with its massive rooms and plush furniture, with its guards and expensive food, with its art and books – but it was still a cell. If she so much as left the palace, even just to enter the courtyard, the people were there in seconds. Even in the courtyard they would shout at her through the locked gates. They blamed her for every disaster, for every wrong, no matter how absurd it was. To them the droughts that still lingered in some parts of Oz were her fault. To them every failed business and starving family was her fault. To them every death was her fault.

She was the embodiment of the failures of Oz. She was the pinnacle of everyone's blame. Nothing was anyone's fault for everything was _her_ fault. The blame she was pinned with left her with a constant headache and the feeling of dread in her heart. Glinda's choice to stand by her green friend was ruining the blonde's position and Elphaba began to fear that she would be the cause of a mutiny towards Glinda.

It wasn't that the blonde was the ruler of Oz – because she wasn't – but she had worked hard to weasel her way into the political games that ran the country. And behind it all she had been brought to power through the Wizard himself, which is what had got her into the palace in the first place. She was, too, _the_ public figure; the only public figure. She was the one who talked to the people. She was the face that everyone in the Emerald City, and some people outside of the city, knew. She was the one that spread the knowledge – whether it was truthful or not was not the point – and Elphaba was afraid for Glinda and her family and how her presence with them was putting them all in so much danger.

"They will never accept me," Elphaba blurted out. She was sitting on the floor with Glinda and Mirelle in the playroom as the blonde rolled a ball between herself and her daughter to keep Mirelle occupied.

Glinda looked up from watching her daughter to lay eyes on Elphaba; she did not pause in her movement of rolling the ball back and forth to Mirelle. "Give it time," the blonde said. "They will realize that you are not who they think you are."

"The Wizard told them that I was a Witch, that I was dangerous, and they will always believe that unless the Wizard himself comes back and tells them otherwise."

"Then maybe we shall just have to do that."

Elphaba raised her eyebrows. "Unless you know how to get to the 'other world', or wherever the Wizard went back to, then that is impossible."

"The Wizard went to the Gillikin, he lives in Frottica to be specific. With my father actually."

Elphaba's mouth opened in shock. "He… he _what_?" she shrieked. "He lives here? In Oz!"

Glinda was taken aback by Elphaba's outburst and Mirelle began to cry at the loud voice of the green woman. Glinda scooped up her child and held her close to comfort her. "What is the matter with you!" she hissed out. "Scaring Mirelle like that! Keep your voice down!"

Elphaba ignored Glinda's scolding and stood up, began to pace. She made to wring her hands together but quickly remembered that without her right hand she could not do such an act so she wrapped her arms around herself instead. "I heard he went back! I heard he left here!" She tried to keep her voice down, for Mirelle's sake, but she found that she simply could not. Her anger was too great for her to keep such control over herself.

Glinda stood up, placed Mirelle in her playpen, and walked over to Elphaba. "Why are you so upset over this?" she asked.

Elphaba shook her head. She could not speak of how the Clock of the Time Dragon had implied that the Wizard was her father – it was just too much for her to say. So she kept her mouth shut and tried to lock away her anger behind the iron wall in her mind.

She could not.

"Elphie… what is wrong?"

Elphaba frowned. "He shouldn't even be here!" she shrieked. "He is poison to Oz!"

Mirelle cried louder and Glinda returned to her child, picked her up, then turned her attention back to Elphaba. "His not doing anything!" she snapped back. "He's just living in Frottica! Minding his own business!"

"He is a fraud Glinda! He is a fake! He has no powers! All he has is his pretty words and twisted lies! Do you even understand what he has done to Oz? To the Animals!"

"Elphie! You're scaring Mirelle!"

"I don't care!"

"Well I do!" Glinda screamed at her friend. "And until you can talk to me without shouting stay away! I'm not letting you get me all riled up in front Mirelle! She doesn't need to see us arguing!"

"Oh, shove it! I saw plenty of arguments when I was growing up!"

"And look how you turned out!"

Elphaba paled – as much as her green skin allowed her too – and shakily backed away from Glinda. She knew she had her faults and her problems but she wasn't _that_ screwed up, was she? She turned and fled the playroom then, slamming the door behind her, and she never saw Glinda's fallen face or the regret in the blonde's eyes.

She fled to her room, ignoring the strange looks she got from the guards, and sat herself down on her bed. She sunk into it as the mattress was far softer than any mattress she had ever had before. It still overwhelmed her – how high quality the things were around her – and she felt completely undeserving of what she had here.

She sat still on the bed for a few moments but the sea of emotions swirling in her – caused from Glinda's harsh words and the knowledge that the Wizard still lived in Oz – were far too unbearable and she soon stood up, made for her private bathroom. She opened the bottom drawer of the vanity and pushed away the bottles of cleaning oils that were stored there until she found what she was looking for.

A knife.

She pulled the knife from its hiding place, perched herself on top of the vanity, and pushed her sleeve up. She brought the knife to the inner elbow of her right arm and took a deep breath. How long had it been since she had hurt herself? There had been the small relapse into this terrible vice of hers when she lived under Garivon's roof but other than that she couldn't remember. She had never done it at Kiamo Ko – that she knew – for it seemed… wrong, in a way, to engage in such activities in someone else's home, in Fiyero's home.

The sharp edge of the knife dug into her skin and traced a line of red blood down to her wrist. She felt the relief flood her then and she relaxed, letting her back rest against the mirror. She brought the knife back up to arm, dug another line of blood down her arm. Her eyes slid shut and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Another blood-red line was drawn down her arm, then another. One more.

The sound of the knife hitting the tiled floor echoed around her. Elphaba snapped her eyes open, saw the blood that poured from her arm through blurred vision, and realized she had dug deeper into her arm then she had intended too.

She slid off the vanity counter, keeping her hand on the wall to try and steady herself, but the room spun around her. She tried to walk, to make it to her bed, but she collapsed to the floor – found herself in a pool of her own blood. She bit her lip and struggled back into a standing position. She stumbled to her door and pushed it opened; walked down the hall using the wall to keep herself from falling. Her head was light and her vision blurred as the blood loss from her severe wounds was causing unconsciousness to creep up around her. Her vision began to slowly go black but she forced herself to concentrate on staying awake. She hugged her wounded arm close to her to try and stop the blood but it came from her too fast.

She feared she had cut too deep, that she had finally gone too far. But was that really a bad thing? She had always wished for the strength to end her wretched life and she wondered if she had finally achieved that? But did she really want death? Did she truly desire to not wake up to see another day? She did not know but she did not have the time to ponder over it anymore for at the moment the very moment that she made it to the playroom the blackness took her and she fell into a crumpled heap on the cool tiled floor.

Glinda threw opened the door to the playroom as she heard the loud crash from within. Mirelle was still in her arms and mother and daughter stared at shock at the green woman who laid before them with blood pooling around her. Glinda dared to look down the hall to see the trail of blood that Elphaba had left behind her on the floor and inhaled sharply at what she saw.

Terror struck Glinda hard and fast as she kneeled down beside her green friend to find that she was not just bleeding furiously but that she had, to her shock, stopped breathing.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_Terror struck Glinda hard and fast as she kneeled down beside her green friend to find that she was not just bleeding furiously but that she had, to her shock, stopped breathing._

--

**Chapter Sixteen:**

Fiyero did not go to see Elphaba even once as she laid, nearly dead, in her bed. Glinda, however, did not leave her friend's side. As a result Mirelle did not see her mother for four whole days. It was not a particularly long time for most people but for a child just wanting her mother it was an unbearable amount of time. She became fussy and dependent and nearly impossible for Fiyero to handle on his own.

Thankfully Elphaba awoke on the fourth day. She blinked the blackness from her vision and turned her head to try and find out where she was. "Glinda?" she asked in surprise.

The blonde looked up from the book she was reading and her eyes lit up as she saw that Elphaba was awake. "Elphie!" she exclaimed. "You're awake!"

Elphaba blinked a few times. "It appears I am," she said.

Glinda's face fell as she heard the regret in Elphaba's voice. "You didn't want to wake up, did you?" she whispered.

"I… I don't really know."

"Why did you do it? Was it… was it because of me? Was it because of what I said?"

"No!" Elphaba sat up in horror but cringed as the blood rushed to her brain and gave her a headache for a few passing moments. She took a deep breath to settle herself down and reached for Glinda's hand – took it in her grasp. "It wasn't you Glinda," she said, almost pleaded. "Please, believe me. It wasn't you. It has never been you and it _will_ never be you. Okay?"

"I'm still sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. You're not a bad person Elphie, and you're not screwed up at all… no matter how many arguments you may have witnessed as a child. You just perfect how you are, okay? You need to know that. You _need_ to believe that!"

"I'm not perfect," Elphaba muttered. "No one is. Well… except for maybe Mirelle. She's about as close to perfection as a human could get."

Glinda smiled at Elphaba's words. "Thank you," she whispered. "To be truthful I was worried about you meeting her. I didn't know how you would react. You know… with her father being Fiyero."

Elphaba inhaled sharply at Glinda's words and turned her head to stare at the wall. "It still hurts," she said; her words barely audible, "that he chose you over me. But I can't say I'm surprised. You two belong together… I saw that back in Shiz."

"Something's bothering you."

"It's nothing really." Elphaba sighed; knowing that Glinda would continue to press her until she told her what was upsetting her. "It's just that he's been so distant. And I… well… it _hurts_. I just want to talk to him but he barely even acknowledges I exist!"

Glinda nodded but Elphaba knew that her blonde friend would never truly understand just how much pain Fiyero's distant attitude was causing her because she did not know about their affair in the Emerald City. Glinda did not know how Elphaba had been Fiyero's mistress or how Fiyero had held Elphaba through the cold nights – how he had kept her warm and safe and so very protected.

Glinda could never know.

"He's been distant with everyone," Glinda whispered, unaware of Elphaba's inner struggle. "Ever since his… well… his time in the Southstairs. He doesn't talk to anyone save myself and Mirelle. Even the fact that he acknowledges you at all is quite a feat. I was worried he would ignore you completely but I'm glad he didn't do that."

"He doesn't talk to anyone?"

"Not really. And he hates any public outing I drag him too but he has to come! After all, he is the father of Mirelle. But he detests them, he detests everything."

Elphaba looked at Glinda in concern. "He's never accepted what happened to him, has he?"

An idea suddenly came to Glinda and she looked excited for a moment. "You should talk to him!" she exclaimed.

Elphaba looked shocked. "Me?" she asked in confusion.

"Yes! Oh, don't you understand Elphie? You've been through pain like Fiyero, maybe even worse! He'll talk to you because you'll understand! You see… I can't possibly even begin to understand so he must see no point in telling me. But if he talks to you maybe… maybe it will help him get over it. Oh, please Elphie. Please! You must at least try!"

Elphaba closed her eyes, opened them, looked at the ceiling. "You shouldn't put this responsibility on me," she whispered. "I'm already on the edge of cracking… don't put his life on my shoulders."

"But Elphie!" Glinda's face fell in hurt and disappointment. "You're the only one that could possibly understand his pain! If you don't help him I'm afraid that he'll… that he'll –"

"Kill himself?" Elphaba finished for Glinda. The room went silent.

"Yes," Glinda whispered.

"He has a child Glinda, he would never abandon little Mirelle."

"How can you be so sure?"

Elphaba flinched at the blonde's bitter tone but did not let herself be manipulated. "Because the love I hold for my friends, and at one point my family, is what has kept _me_ from killing myself," she replied; just as bitterly.

"All I'm asking is that you _talk_ to him Elphie, just a talk. Why can't you do that!" She was angry now and could not control the level of her voice.

"Go," Elphaba muttered. "Please… just go."

"You've changed. The Elphie I remember would have done anything to help her friends. _Anything_!"

"And that Elphie nearly let her selflessness send her into the spiraling chasm of depression and suicide."

Glinda stood up then, far too angry to trust herself to speak, and stormed from the room. Elphaba watched her go and felt the regret bubbling inside of her. Was she wrong to refuse to speak to Fiyero? She did not know.

What she did know was that she did not trust herself to ever be alone with Fiyero.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

_What she did know was that she did not trust herself to ever be alone with Fiyero._

--

**Chapter Seventeen:**

The mutiny Elphaba feared came a few weeks after her near death incident in the palace. The screams echoed in her head as she rushed to her window after being jerked awake by the resounding explosion that broke the gates down.

She wondered where the simple-living people of Oz had got a hold of the chemicals required to make such an explosion occur but she did not have time to think about it. She threw on her coat, slipped on her boots, and ran from her room and down the hall. She found Glinda, holding Mirelle close to her, in the blonde's room with Fiyero watching in horror from the window.

He turned to Elphaba upon hearing her arrival. "This is your fault!" he hissed out. "They are doing this because you are here!"

"Fiyero!" Glinda screamed, horrified at what her lover was saying. "Don't put the blame on Elphie! She's done nothing wrong!"

"Don't," Elphaba said as she tore her eyes from the hectic scene outside the window of guards trying to keep the massive crowd back to look at little Mirelle crying in Glinda's arms. "Fiyero's right. They want me and I'll be damned if I let them hurt you to get to me." She fled the room then, ignoring the guards who tried to stop her to keep her safe, and threw open the main doors of the palace to stand on the stone steps that she had been forced to kneel on only a few months ago.

Even in just her nightgown, boots, and winter coat she was an imposing figure. The morning sunlight shined on her, illuminating her green skin, and her black hair fell in waves – almost curls – over her shoulders and down her back. She had gained a little weight since living in the palace and it helped to make her tall frame seem a little more filled out.

She frightened the people of Oz. The crowd fell silent and the guards, who had been trying to keep them away, stood back slightly to get their bearings. They seemed to be waiting for Elphaba to do something, to say something, or to magick them all away into nothingness perhaps.

She realized, at the moment that she scanned the angry mob looking up at her expectantly, that she did not have her broom nor the Grimmerie. They sat uselessly in her room where Glinda had placed them after removing them from the guard that had originally taken them from Elphaba upon her arrival at the palace. She doubted that neither the broom nor the Grimmerie could help her but she always felt more comfortable, more assured of herself, when she had them by her side.

"The Witch!" someone screamed and it sent the crowd into a frenzy again. They tried to get to her, tried to reach her, but the guards kept them back from the steps. A small section of the mob began to throw rocks at her and soon everyone followed their lead. Most of them missed their mark but a few struck true – hitting her in the shoulder, in the stomach, in the legs, and one even grazed the side of her head.

Yet she did not move. Elphaba stood still in front of the crowd and did not let them see her fear. She seemed to soak in their anger and fury, seemed to feed off of it, and she could feel the magick growing in her. It was like a fire that started in the pit of her stomach and slowly spread throughout her body, warming her, overwhelming her. Soon the rocks the mob threw at her where unable to reach their target no matter how true their path was. Any rock or stone or stick that got close to her was cast aside by the invisible wall of protection her magick had created around her.

She began to tremble with the power coursing through her as her age and weak body was not meant to handle such magickal abilities anymore but she did not care. She could not squash the only amount of magick she had been able to feel in such a terribly long time simply because she was afraid that her body could not handle it. If she died today because her magick overwhelmed her then so be it – let her die.

An explosion startled Elphaba from her thoughts and the wall to her left seemed to shatter outwards. Had the mob done this? She didn't know but it seemed impossible that they could do such a thing. Or was this mutiny far more planned out then Elphaba could have ever imagined?

Glinda was suddenly beside Elphaba, tugging on her arm to try and get her to come inside but she would not be moved. Fiyero stood a few feet behind them, Mirelle held in his arms, and looked petrified at what was happening around them. "Get back in here!" he screamed at Glinda.

"Not without Elphie!"

"Go inside," Elphaba whispered as she pried pale hands off of her arm. "Go inside and don't come back out. You shouldn't see this… you shouldn't watch me die."

"Elphie!" Glinda screamed but her green friend ignored her as she began to walk down the stairs.

The crowd went silent for the second time in less than five minutes. The dust from the crushed brick wall to Elphaba's left still lingered in the air and the explosion had caused her ears to ring. She walked down the stone steps and before she even realized what was happening the broom had, on its own accord, flown from its place propped against the wall in her room to her side. She grabbed it, finding strength in the feeling of its worn wood in her hand, and made her way through the crowd.

The guards parted for her, and so did the mob. She stopped somewhere in the middle of them and her breathing was shallow and rapid. Glinda still stood at the top of the stone steps with Fiyero and Mirelle just behind her.

"Kill me." Her words were soft, not even that of a whisper, but her magick carried them through the air to be heard be all. "You think death is what I want least but you are wrong. Death would be my release from this wretched, cursed life I lead. Kill me, I beg you to, for I have no strength to do it myself. Release me, save my torn soul, and save my friends from the disaster I bring to all."

The crowd was deathly silent at her words. Elphaba had never spoken so plainly about her desire to end her life to anyone, much less an angry mob bent on killing her, and the honesty in her words could not be denied by any person who had heard what she had said.

The explosion tore through the silence then and Elphaba turned at the sound. Her eyes widened in horror as time itself seemed to slow down just so that she could react. She swung the broom in an arch and words, spoken in the language of the Grimmerie, came from her mouth in a hoarse scream that echoed all around her. The small hangover above the palace doors that Glinda and her family stood under had been the next target of the mob and their explosive devices that they had obviously planted there long before the crowd had converged at the palace gates.

If it was not for Elphaba's extraordinary magick her friend, her former lover, and the perfect child Mirelle, would have died. But, as it was, the power that resided in the green woman, the power that had saved her life time and time again, came forth at that moment to save the lives of her friends. It held the shattered stone and brick of the hangover in some sort of invisible net – made the stone seem suspended in the air above the family of three. Fiyero had shot forward to Glinda's side and had pulled the blonde down. They crouched together in a terrified huddle with Fiyero doing his best to shield both Glinda and Mirelle with his own body.

More words came from Elphaba's mouth. Words she had remembered reading in the Grimmerie but could not comprehend – she just knew that now was the time to use them. She focused only on saving her friends and the angry mob around her seemed to disappear from her vision. All she could see was the broken stone and Glinda's family as they huddled underneath it.

It turned to dust. As the spell was sung from her mouth and the magick poured from her body the shattered bricks and stones began to turn into dust until every threatening piece was nothing more than a single particle of gray, green, brown, or black floating in the air. She dropped the broom then, stumbled backwards in exhaustion, and her vision spun. The dust fell to the ground, coating Fiyero and his family, and Elphaba watched in relief as her two friends stood up and seemed to be okay.

The last thing she remembered was hearing Glinda calling her name before the darkness took her.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

_The last thing she remembered was hearing Glinda calling her name before the darkness took her._

--

**Chapter Eighteen:**

The mob was stunned into silence. They had never intended for any of their explosions to put the lives of Glinda the Good and her family in danger. After all, they had simply thought that the bubbly blonde public figure had been witched by the Wicked Witch somehow. They had never expected for her to come to the green Witch's aid – yet she had, and she had almost died for her efforts.

And at the moment that the Witch collapsed in the middle of the mob Glinda screamed in surprise and worry. She called the Witch's name but got no response so she ran down the steps, pushed her way through the crowd, and kneeled down beside her friend's crumpled body.

"Elphie?" She shook Elphaba's shoulder but got no response. "Elphie? Please… can you hear me? Elphie? Elphie!" She grabbed both of Elphaba's shoulders, shook her harder. "Elphie! Wake up! Don't die on me! Not like this!"

Fiyero was by her side then, still holding Mirelle in his arms. "Glinda?" he asked quietly. "Here, take Mirelle." He handed her their daughter and the blonde reluctantly took her.

"Do something!" she screamed at Fiyero.

"I will!" he snapped back. They both seemed oblivious to the stunned mob that still crowded around them. "Elphie?" he called but just like Glinda he got no response. He put his fingers to a green neck but found no pulse there so he moved his fingers to her lips to just barely feel the air passing in and out of her mouth. She was alive but just barely and if they did not get her to a doctor there was no telling what could happen. He scooped her up in his arms, remembering times in the Emerald City where he had held her close to himself underneath the tattered sheets of the bed above the abandoned corn exchange. He shuddered at the memories, tried to block them out, and moved to take Elphaba back into the palace but the mob stood in his way – refused to let him escape with the person they had come to kill.

"Let her die!" someone screamed. "Let her rot away into nothingness!"

Fiyero was shocked and began to feel overwhelmed as he saw the crowd that surrounded him. He had been alone for so long in the Southstairs that large crowds brought out debilitating panic in him and he was concerned he would not be able to keep a level head on him long enough to save Elphaba. She was fading away, was dying, and he knew that. The magick she had used to save himself and his family had drained her to her very core and left her dying in his arms.

"Get out of my way!" His voice was commanding and far louder than it had ever been in a long time. He was afraid for the green woman in his arms, afraid that he would not be able to save her. And, in the end, had she not saved him? Was it not her magick that had kept him alive the night the men had come to beat him to death? It was the only explanation he had ever been able to come up with because he knew she had been there – he remembered her holding him, cradling him in his arms.

He owed her.

The mob looked taken aback by Fiyero's angry words but they did not part to allow him to leave. "For Oz's sake!" he screamed at them. "She saved our lives! Lives you all put in danger with this insane mutiny of yours! If it was not for her you all would have killed us! Now let me save her before I have all of you arrested for conspiring to murder Glinda the Good and her family! Not to mention Elphaba as well!" It was the most he had ever said to anyone save Glinda for so very long. It felt weird to him, to talk so much and so loudly, but he felt he needed to.

It worked. The crowd looked guilty and all it took was one person to do the right thing and move out of the way and then everyone else followed. Fiyero let out a heavy sigh of relief before darting up the dust-covered steps and ducking into the palace. Glinda followed as fast as she could as she hugged the terrified and crying Mirelle close to her. The guards began to push the now stunned mob out of the broken gates as the people had lost their anger and fury as they began to realize how close to killing Glinda and her family they had come.

Fiyero laid Elphaba down in her bed, pulled her boots and her winter jacket off, and tucked the sheets around her trembling body. He ordered one of the guards to fetch a doctor just as Glinda entered. She stared at Fiyero until he sensed her gaze and tore his eyes from Elphaba's pale form to look at her. She was crying and the fear in her eyes made his heart shake. He walked towards her; enveloping her in a tight embrace that squished Mirelle between them. The small child had calmed down since being removed from the presence of the large mob but she still sniffled and cried out every few moments.

"They almost killed us!" Glinda sucked back a sob and tried to get her tears under control. "Just to get to Elphie! How could they? How!"

"Most of them probably didn't even understanding what they were doing. I can guarantee you that at least half of them, if not more, just got caught up in the excitement of the mob. Sometimes people just want to feel as if they are being a part of some great change even if all they are doing is killing someone for no good reason. People need martyrs. People need someone to blame. The Wizard gave them Elphaba and no matter what happens we'll be hard-pressed to change that."

Glinda sniffled. "It's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair."

"Well it should be!"

Mirelle started to cry in earnest again at Glinda's loud voice and Fiyero pulled away from her and took Mirelle from the blonde. He held her close, whispering nonsense in a calming voice and rubbing soothing circles over her back. In time she calmed down and fell asleep with her head resting against Fiyero's shoulder.

The doctor came then, rushing through the door and full of frantic energy. He looked less than happy to be the one called upon to care for the Wicked Witch but he did not voice his protest for he knew that it would fall on deaf ears. Instead he set his bag down and placed the back of his hand on a green forehead to find the skin ice cold. He frowned and peeled the sheets back and went to grab a hold of Elphaba's wrist to check for a pulse only to find that the hand he grasped for was not there for he was standing on the right side of the bed.

"Yes, her right hand is gone!" Glinda snapped at the doctor. "Get over the shock and help her!"

The doctor nodded and reached over Elphaba's lithe body to take a hold of her left wrist, checked for a pulse. It was barely there; beating slowly and erratically. He went for his bag, opened it, and pulled his stethoscope from it. He put it on and slipped the cold metal end of it under the collar of Elphaba's shirt to listen to her heart. It beat in the same slow, erratic path that her pulse had indicated it would. He sighed and turned to address Glinda and Fiyero. "She is cold," he said simply. "Her body seems incapable of keeping itself warm. Other than that there is nothing else wrong with her. Her heart beats slow but that is due to the alarmingly cold temperature of her body."

"Is she going to die?" Glinda asked quietly.

"There is that chance."

"What can be done?" Fiyero questioned. "Surely we can do something to help her."

"Keep her wrapped in thick blankets for she must be kept warm. I will return to my office and see if I can create some sort of medication to help her body warm up. If I can I shall return but there is nothing else to be done. Keep her warm and the room quiet… you do not want to bring any stress to her by having the room she is in chaotic. It could spell disaster."

Fiyero nodded and the doctor took his leave then. Glinda sighed and pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down. "Here, let me take Mirelle," she said quietly, as if she was distracted. "You should go find some more blankets."

He nodded and handed the sleeping child over to Glinda. The blonde cradled her daughter in her arms, held her close, and watched Elphaba's chest as it moved up and down painfully slowly in shallow breathing. Fiyero was gone for just under twenty minutes before he returned to find that Glinda was in the same position he had left her in. He sighed and carefully wrapped the heavy winter blankets over Elphaba's shaking body and then sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Glinda.

"She wants to die," Glinda whispered as she did not take her eyes off of her green friend.

"She's wanted to die for a very long time."

Glinda looked up at Fiyero in confusion. "How would you know that?" she asked quietly. "You haven't seen her since Shiz. And you've barely even acknowledged that she exists since she's been here! Do you know how upset she is over that? Do you!"

Fiyero dropped his gaze to the floor and took a deep breath to gather his courage. "We had an affair," he whispered before falling silent and bracing himself for the anger and fury he thought would surely come from the blonde across from him.

Instead a small, almost inaudible, "What?" came from thin lips.

"It was a long time ago now," he continued as he played with the folds of sheets on the bed. "In the Emerald City. Sarima was still alive, and my children, and… and it all went so horribly wrong!" He fell silent for a few moments as he tried to collect his thoughts. He had never spoken about his past to Glinda before and it was far more difficult than he ever thought it would be. "They came in the dark with their guns and sticks and fists. They beat me until nothing remained. I would have died then but Elphaba came back and she held me close, and she cried and screamed and I wanted to tell her I was going to be okay but I couldn't speak and I couldn't move! It was her magick that saved me, I know it was!" He buried his head in his hands then as the memories and emotions overwhelmed me. He cried and it unnerved Glinda – she didn't know what to say or what to do.

In time he continued but his words were muffled as his head was still buried in his hands. "She put me on her bed, kissed me goodbye, and left. She thought I was dead… she must have else she would never have left. She loved me too much to leave me. And then the guards came back, saw I was still alive, and dragged me to the Southstairs. And there I remained for years and years and years! And when I was finally found and released Elphaba was dead and I just… I couldn't handle it." He looked up at Glinda then and she could see the tears running down his face. "I loved her Glinda! I loved her more than I thought a person could love someone! And then all of the sudden she was here! And she was alive! And she was here Glinda! _Here_! And I… I… I still love her."

His last words were said in a barely audible whisper and they lingered in the air long after they had left his mouth. Glinda stared at him in horror. "You love her more than me, don't you?"

"I would never leave you Glinda!"

"But you love her more than me, don't you?"

"Glinda… please… try to understand. It was a long time ago, basically a whole other lifetime. Things have change. I'm not going to leave you!"

"Answer the question Fiyero."

His face fell and he wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, tried to get his tears under control. "Yes," his whispered, not looking at Glinda. "But I would never –"

"It's because of Mirelle, isn't it? You're forcing yourself to stay with me, to love me, because of our daughter, aren't you?"

He nodded, reluctantly.

"You never really loved me, did you? I was just… here. Did you pretend I was Elphaba? Did you try to keep her alive in your mind by loving her vicariously through me? Was it just because I was her friend that you even considered loving me?" Her questions were bitter and her voice dangerously level as she tried to keep her anger under control. "Is Mirelle supposed to be the child you wished you had with her?"

"Glinda please… don't do this… don't make me –"

"Face yourself and how you've just been manipulating me!" she shrieked, waking Mirelle and the child started crying almost instantly. Glinda ignored her. "Face how you've just taken my heart, used it for your own pitiful, selfish needs, then twisted it up and thrown it away like trash!" She stood up. "If you love her so damn much you can sit here and watch over her! You can smother her with all your love until she wakes up! And then when she does you can take her and run off with her and abandon me and Mirelle like I know you want to!" She turned on her heal, stormed from the room.

"Glinda!" Fiyero called after her but she slammed the door behind her; ending their conversation that had quickly turned into an out-of-control argument.

He stood up, began to pace, and then stopped after a few minutes as he realized that it was a habit that reminded him far too much of Elphaba. So he went to her side, kneeled down by her bed, and just looked at her. Her eyes were shut, her skin pale, and her body trembling. She was sick, she was dying, and she had complicated their lives so much more than he had ever imagined.

He left suddenly, closing the door gently behind him. "Go in there," he said to the guard standing outside the door. "Sit with her and if she makes any indication of waking send for both myself and Glinda. Do you understand?" The guard nodded and quickly ducked into Elphaba's room. Fiyero went to his own room then; sending a servant to fetch him some scotch.

Fiyero drank until he fell into the blissfulness of alcohol induced unconsciousness.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

_Fiyero drank until he fell into the blissfulness of alcohol induced unconsciousness._

--

**Chapter Nineteen:**

She was cold. The first thing that registered in her mind was the bitter cold that had wrapped itself around her body. It made it hard for her to concentrate, to think. She tried to open her eyes but it seemed to be an impossible task – her eyelids were just far too heavy. She tried to talk but her voice seemed to have fled her. She tried to make any sort of indication to the outside world that she was awake and functional but she could not. Her body was frozen and she felt completely trapped in it.

"Elphaba?"

His voice was low, warm, and so very familiar. It was Fiyero, she knew it was, but why? He had been so distance for so long, why now was he here beside her? And was that him holding her hand? She didn't know. If she could only open her eyes she would be able to tell.

"Fiyero," a softer voice whispered. She recognized it as Glinda's. "It's been weeks. The doctors say she won't –."

"I know what the doctors say!" he snapped and his hand squeezed Elphaba's tighter.

There was silence then and Elphaba desperately wished she could do something. Anything! But she couldn't and soon her two friends started talking again but she couldn't decipher their words. The sound seemed to fade away from her, as did the feeling of coldness that had wrapped itself around her body, until the unconsciousness reared its ugly head again and sent her mind back into blackness.

When she awoke again she found herself able to open her eyes but her body was still bitterly cold, her mind still hazy, and her memories a mist she could not decipher. She tried to turn her head so she could see anything more than the ceiling but she could not. No matter how hard she concentrated she could not move her body. It was as if her mind was no longer connected to her body and that scared her terribly.

If there was anyone in the room she could not see them nor hear them and before she could find her strength to speak, or make any movement at all, the darkness took her again.

The next time she awoke she was so cold that her bones themselves ached. She forced her eyes opened and she would be damned if she let the unconsciousness take her again before telling someone that she was very much alive and aware. So she made her head turn slightly so that she could at least see something in the room besides the white ceiling.

She saw Glinda with her attention focused on Mirelle as she bounced her daughter on her knee. She was singing softly and Elphaba realized that she had never heard the blonde sing before. She had a lovely voice.

"Hello."

Glinda stopped bouncing Mirelle instantly and turned her head sharply to focus on Elphaba. "Elphie!" she shrieked. "Elphie! You're awake! Dear Oz you're awake!"

Mirelle began to cry and Glinda tried to shush her without really paying attention. "Oh, oh Elphie!" She began to cry as she called for a servant and then sent the servant away to fetch Fiyero.

"I'm cold," Elphaba whispered. Her voice was hoarse – barely audible – and it pained her to speak.

Glinda reached out and slid her hand under the thick winter blankets, took Elphaba's hand in her own. "I know," she said. "We've done our best to try and keep you warm but it just seems so impossible. Trust me, we've tried."

"I'm hungry."

"I'm not surprised. All the doctors have been able to get down your throat is soup broth that I made them make with milk, which they thought was odd but did not argue with me. I didn't tell them why though because… well… I know you never used to like other people knowing about the… the water thing."

"Thank you."

"Fiyero told me," Glinda said quietly as Mirelle finally settled down on her mother's lap. "About the… the affair you two had."

"Glinda…"

"We don't need to talk about it now but I want you to know that I know."

"It was a long time ago and –"

"I know Elphie, I know. Let's just worry about getting you better right now, okay?" She smiled at the green room and Elphaba returned the smile with her own small one.

"How long have I been laying here?"

Glinda thought for a moment, her facing scrunching up into her 'concentration' face that Elphaba remembered from their time at Shiz. "Over two months," she eventually answered. "Maybe closer to three months." She shrugged. "I'm not really sure. They've repaired the gates and the wall the mob destroyed in the time you've been unconscious… if that helps at all."

Elphaba nodded by the motion sent her vision spinning and she moaned as a headache began to form behind her eyes. She let her eyes slid shut as she suddenly felt so very tired. She was still bitterly cold.

"Elphie?"

Glinda's voice seemed far away, as if the blonde was standing at the far end of a long hallway. Elphaba mumbled something incomprehensible as Glinda's hold on her hand tightened. "Elphie?" the blonde repeated. "Elphie, can you hear me?"

Elphaba nodded and a weak, "Yes," escaped her mouth.

Glinda sighed in relief. "I thought you slipped away again," she said.

"Nope," Elphaba replied quietly; her eyes still shut. "I'm still here."

"I'm glad."

"I'm cold."

"You've already said that."

"Really cold."

"It will get better, just give it time."

They fell silent. The only sound came from Mirelle as she made the normal sounds of a child her age trying to speak when she did not have any true grasp over the art of language. Every now and then Glinda would ask Elphaba if she was still awake and Elphaba would make a small noise to assure the blonde that she still was.

In time Fiyero came. He entered so quietly that Elphaba did not even hear him nor notice his presence in any way. He looked from Glinda to the seemingly sleeping Elphaba a few times until the force of his gaze registered in Elphaba's mind and the green woman opened her eyes.

"You came," she whispered.

Fiyero looked shocked. "Of course I would."

"Fiyero…" Elphaba's words were spoken slowly, as if she had to concentrate greatly to remember how to talk. She could feel the unconsciousness creeping up on her again. "Fiyero… we need to talk."

He looked worried, frightened even. "I know but not right now, okay? No one needs to get stressed out or worked up until you get better, okay?"

"I feel like I'm dying."

Silence. Even Mirelle could sense the change in mood and the morbid feeling that had settled in the room. "You're not going to die," Fiyero said. "We'll make sure of that. Trust us."

"I can't die," Elphaba said, letting her eyes close again. "Dorothy killed me yet I still live. Don't you know the old saying? 'A witch cannot die.' That's what they say anyways. I guess I _am_ a witch. I guess I cannot die."

"Elphaba… why are you talking like this?" Fiyero asked and he sounded worried.

"Because I love you and now I will never be able to have you."

Her words shocked even herself and she pulled her hand free of Glinda's grasp. "Sorry," she muttered. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Elphie… please… you're going to get yourself riled up," Glinda whispered. "The doctors said that wouldn't be good."

"What do doctors know?"

"More than any of us."

"They know only what their brainwashing schools have taught them. Who funded those schools? Who ruled over the knowledge they were given? It was the Wizard! And the Wizard is a corrupt man!" Elphaba's voice shook with emotion and exhaustion. "They know no more than you or I! They just parade around with an air of undeserved knowledge to make themselves feel important!"

"You don't even know the Wizard."

"I know what he has done!" Elphaba sat up and the room spun around her but she ignored her body's warning signs. "I know what horrors he has caused in this city! In this world! And I know how blindly the people follow him! He is not a God! He is not a hero! He cannot save everyone from their sins!"

"Elphie!"

"All he does is cause people to sin more without even realizing it! Look around you! He has brainwashed all of Oz into hating me! He has brainwashed everyone into loving him even now that he is gone! He is the evil one! He is the wicked one! Not me!"

"Are you not the same?" Fiyero spat out. "You followed your revolution leaders without question and you never even saw who they were! If they had asked you to murder you wouldn't have asked questions! If they had asked you to show yourself and let the mobs kill you you wouldn't have faltered! You followed them just as blindly as the people followed the Wizard! Who is to say that your cause is any more right than the Wizards? Who are you to judge!"

"How can you defend him? He had you locked in the Southstairs simply because he had the _inclination_ that you associated with me!"

"He thought he was doing the right thing!"

"And that makes it okay?" Elphaba was furious and if she was not so weak she would have stood up then; would have struck Fiyero for the words he had spoken.

"No! But at least it can help us to understand!"

"I don't care to understand!"

"Maybe you should!"

Mirelle began to cry. Her screams cut through the angry words being shared between Fiyero and Elphaba and made them fall silence. The little child in Glinda's arms squirmed and screamed and cried as she fed off the atmosphere around her as children often do. Elphaba's headache became stronger as Mirelle would not be quieted no matter how hard Glinda tried.

"Can you not shut-up your child!" Elphaba screamed as she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Elphaba Thropp!" Glinda snapped out. "You keep your tongue under control around my daughter!"

"If you could keep your daughter in control I wouldn't have to yell at you to be a damn parent!"

Glinda stood up then, clutching Mirelle close to her, and leveled Elphaba an angry glare before striding from the room in her fury. Fiyero watched the blonde in shock before he too stood up. He looked at Elphaba, seemed to be studying her. "I imagine that's kind of how your father sounded like."

"Don't!" Elphaba shrieked. "Just… just don't! Get out of here! Get out of my sight!"

Fiyero left. The room fell into silence and Elphaba let her head rest against the wall behind her. Her eyes slid shut but she refused to let unconsciousness sneak up on her. She fought with all her will to keep herself awake but her exhaustion was too much for her to overcome and the darkness, once again, stole her from the waking world.


	21. Chapter Twenty

_She fought with all her will to keep herself awake but her exhaustion was too much for her to overcome and the darkness, once again, stole her from the waking world._

--

**Chapter Twenty:**

"Auntie Freak?"

Elphaba's eyelids fluttered opened at the small voice and she turned her head to see pale hands clutched onto the side of her bed and bright blue eyes looking up at her. "Mirelle?" she asked quietly and the child cocked her head slightly.

"Auntie Freak?" the child repeated. "Green, green, green! Green as sin! Auntie Freak!"

"Where did you learn such words as that?" Elphaba questioned as she slowly sat up, her head throbbing. "And why are you alone in my room? Who is supposed to be watching you?"

The child did not respond. "Auntie Freak!" she said again, giggling afterwards as if it was some secret joke. She tried to climb up onto the bed but she became tangled in the sheets and almost tumbled to the ground. Elphaba shot out her hand and grabbed the child's arm, keeping her steady.

"You want to come up here?" Elphaba asked as she leaned forward and helped the child to claw her way onto the bed. "You shouldn't be here, I'm a horrible mother. I can't be trusted with children for I was never a child myself."

"Green!" Mirelle poked Elphaba's hand, laughed. "Green!"

"I had a son once," Elphaba whispered as she laid back down. Mirelle settled herself against Elphaba's chest and the green woman instinctively put her arm around the child to keep her safe. "Never was a good mother," she muttered. "I wonder where he is now?"

"Auntie Freak!"

"He would have been your half-brother. You'd have the same father you know. Pity, isn't it? You could have had a big brother had I not failed so."

"Green freak!" Mirelle laughed hysterically as she looked up at Elphaba. Blue eyes stared into brown ones and the child seemed to lose her voice as she saw the pain swirling in Elphaba's eyes. "Auntie Freak?" she questioned. It was almost as if the child was asking the Witch if she was okay.

Elphaba opened her mouth and began to sing, in soft, soothing tones, a song her mother had often sent her to sleep with:

_Hush my child__  
Tiny and sleeping__  
Take to bed  
Sweet dreamings  
Hush my child  
Broken and crying  
Take to bed  
Sweet dreamings  
Hush my child  
Green and wicked  
Cast aside  
For you are sickened  
Hush my child  
Sinful and ugly  
Take to bed  
For you are deadly  
Hush my child  
Quiet your crying  
Hush my child  
For you are dying  
Hush my child  
Go to bed  
Hush my child  
Why aren't you dead?_

Her voice faltered and she fell silent. The words were morbid but the tune comforting. As a child she had never really listened to the lyrics of the soft lullaby but it seemed they were ingrained in her mind for she still, after decades of life, could sing them. There had been more though, she knew that, she just could not remember them. It wasn't as if it was a real lullaby anyways. It was not a song that was passed down from generation to generation. It had been a song Melena had created herself to try and quiet her restless green daughter but the words had come out harsher then she had intended them to be. Nevertheless, she continued to sing the lullaby night after night and its soothing tune had lulled Elphaba to sleep and the hurtful words had been the beginning of the green woman's lack of self-worth.

Now she sung them to little Mirelle because it was the only song she could remember from her childhood and it seemed the right thing to do – to sing to her.

"That's not a very nice song."

Elphaba sat up, gently so as not to wake the now sleeping Mirelle, and looked over her shoulder to face Glinda. "It's the only one I know," she replied with a shrug.

"So you have her."

"She came to me. She called me 'Auntie Freak' and 'green as sin'. You might want to find out where she is learning such words from."

"I shall put an end to it."

"I don't particularly mind much. It's not the worst names I've been called."

"Still, I don't want her to grow up hating you."

"Don't worry, I'll be dead long before she can have the time to remember me."

Glinda looked hurt. "You know I don't like it when you talk like that."

Elphaba shrugged and turned her attention back to the child sleeping beside her. "You should take her from me," she said as she ran a hand through Mirelle's short brown hair. "I shouldn't be trusted with her alone."

"The doctors say you should try moving about more. After all, you've been huddled here in your quarters for almost five months now."

"I don't have much desire to face the world again. Everyone hates me, what's the point?"

"Mirelle turns two next week, I'd like it if you could be there."

"I'm not one for celebrations."

"Elphie… please… it would mean a lot to me."

"I'll think about it."

Glinda sighed. "Are you being distant because of Fiyero?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Just take your daughter and go," Elphaba said and her words came out harsher than she intended them to.

"So you're really going to waste the rest of your life hiding behind these walls? The world needs you Elphie. Oz needs you. The Animals need you."

"I'm tired of playing the hero. Don't you know Glinda? Heroes always fail. Always."

"That's not true."

"It's true for me."

Glinda shook her head in frustration and went to the bed. She scooped Mirelle up in her arms and looked at Elphaba sadly. "I just want you to be happy," the blonde whispered. "Tell me how to help you."

"Leave me be," Elphaba spat out. "That will help me."

"No it won't."

"Don't tell me what will help me!"

Glinda frowned but relented as she was too tired to fight with Elphaba for Elphaba always won. So she left then, carrying Mirelle with her, and the Witch found herself alone. The silence was suddenly overwhelming and very discomforting. Her will, however, was not strong enough to venture out of the room and her soul was still far too shattered for her to attempt to live again. She stayed in the bed, curled up under the sheets to try and stay warm, and fell into a restless sleep full of half-formed and terrifying dreams.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

_She stayed in the bed, curled up under the sheets to try and stay warm, and fell into a restless sleep full of half-formed and terrifying dreams._

--

**Chapter Twenty-One:**

Mirelle's second birthday was the day that Elphaba finally left her room. Her legs were shaky and weak and her head throbbed when she stood up but she was determined to do this for Glinda. She dressed in a plain black frock and combed her hair, letting it hang loose down her back. She couldn't walk or stand for long for her body was still incredibly weak from the effort and magick she had exerted during that terrifying day five months ago.

She had no present for Mirelle but the child did not mind – she already had more presents than she could ever need. Elphaba sat in the corner of the room, nibbling on a plate of vegetables and dips, and watched the festivities with a wary eye. There were far more people invited to the party then she could have imagined but thankfully they all gave her a wide berth. Mirelle giggled, cooed, spoke in broken English and reveled in the attention she was receiving from everyone. Elphaba found solace in being ignored. There were a few snide remarks sent her way but it was obvious that everyone was at least trying to be civil with her for Glinda's sake – or on Glinda's orders.

Someone leaned over the back of the chair Elphaba sat in and she could feel his hot breathe against her ear. "So nice to see you again," he whispered.

Elphaba bolted from the chair and spun around but the fast motion sent her vision spinning and her head throbbing and she reached out blindly for something to steady herself. She was forced to grab on to a stranger's arm who looked at her in shock before quickly shrugging her off.

"Why are you here?" she hissed out.

"I was invited by Glinda herself." He looked just as handsome as he always had. Time had seemed to pass him by and life had not, in any way, drug him through the mud like it had done to her. "You look frail, what has become of you?"

"Get out of my sight!" Elphaba was trying to keep her voice low, trying to not bring attention to herself or make a scene, but his presence made it difficult for her to control herself. She didn't want anyone to know how terrified she was of him but it was impossible for her to hide her fear as he approached her.

His hand rested on her side, slid down to her hip. "Still as green as ever," he said quietly as his other hand came to rest on the small of her back and pulled her close to him. Their hips touched, just barely, and she could see the lust in his eyes. The people around her seemed not to notice what was happening, or if they did they were ignoring it on purpose.

"Avaric…" Elphaba pleaded. "Please… don't do this. I beg of you."

"Begging now?" Avaric laughed. "How you have fallen Miss Elphaba. I'm shocked."

His lips brushed against her but she pushed him away. He stumbled backwards slightly before regaining his balance. "As feisty as ever I see," he said with a smile. "But that's never stopped me before, has it?"

He reached for her wrist but she backed away from him; turned and fled. She looked for Glinda in the crowd of people and when she found the blonde she went to her side, grabbed her arm and interrupted the conversation Glinda was having.

"What?" Glinda snapped out, pulling her arm from Elphaba's grasp and looking annoyed at being interrupted. But her face softened as she saw the terrified look on her friend's face. "Elphie… what's wrong?"

"Why is he here?" she asked, her voice rushed and panicked. "Why did you invite him!"

"Who?" Glinda was confused and she knew that the group of women she had been talking to were thoroughly disgusted with her for even associating with, who they still believed was, the Wicked Witch.

"Avaric!"

"What do you have against Master Avaric?" a brunette that Glinda had been talking to asked. "He's a fine gentleman he is."

"Stay out of what you don't know!" Elphaba spat out. The brunette looked hurt.

"Elphie…" Glinda whispered before turning her attention back to the women. "If I may be excused," she said with a small head nod, "I will be back in mere moments." Glinda took a hold of Elphaba's arm, placed a hand on the green woman's back, and gently led her to a quieter part of the room.

"You know what he has done to me!" Elphaba hissed at her blonde friend – who did not feel like a friend to her at this particular moment. "Why did you invite him?"

"Politics," Glinda tried to explain as she sat Elphaba down in an empty chair and kneeled down in front of her. "I cannot not invite him. He's too well known and it would suspicious. There would be rumours."

"He has raped me!" Elphaba snapped out and her voice was loud, loud enough for those around to hear and as soon as she realized that her cheeks went dark green in embarrassment and shame and she dropped her gaze to the ground. "Why did you insist on me coming if you knew he was here?" she asked quietly.

"I told him to stay away from you but apparently he did not heed my words."

"No. No he didn't."

"I'm sorry Elphie. I'll have a talk with him. Okay?"

"I want to go now."

Glinda nodded, she understood. "I'll keep an eye on him, okay? I won't let him hurt you."

"This is Avaric we're talking about," Elphaba muttered. "No one can keep him from me and you know that."

Glinda sighed. "Look, I'll get a guard to watch your room, okay? Would that make you feel safer?"

"A little."

"Will you be okay to go by yourself or would you like me to come with you?"

"No, you stay here," Elphaba said. "You stay with Mirelle, after all, it is her birthday. I guess I should wish her a happy birthday, shouldn't I?"

"If you want."

Elphaba nodded and stood up slowly. She scanned the room, found Mirelle with Fiyero and a bunch of other adults smothering her with love. She walked over there cautiously, welcoming the presence of Glinda beside her, and stopped just behind Fiyero. He sensed that she was there and turned to face her.

Mirelle held her arms out towards Elphaba. "Auntie Freak!" she shrieked in joy. "Auntie Freak!"

Elphaba smiled, finding that the nickname did not bother her as much as she had thought it would. "I'm going little Mirelle," she said as she leaned down slightly so her face was right in front of the child's as Fiyero held her in his arms. "So I just came to wish you a happy birthday. How old are you again?"

She held out two little fingers. "Two!" she said happily. "Two year old!"

"You're getting old, soon you'll be as old as me."

"But never green," Mirelle said, almost sadly. "Can I be green?"

"Now why in Oz's name would you want such a thing?"

"Green so pretty! Can I be green when I grow?"

Elphaba looked shocked and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts. "Maybe," she said quietly as she found she did not have the heart to crush little Mirelle's dreams. "Maybe you'll grow up to be green. No one knows for sure."

Mirelle's face lit up in joy and she clapped her hands together. "I want to be green!" she shrieked. "Auntie Freak, can you make me green?"

"Maybe another day."

"Next birthday?"

Elphaba laughed. "Maybe," she replied. "I'll think about it."

Mirelle smiled and cooed and giggled. "Green!" she shrieked in joy. "Green! Green! Green! I can be green!"

Elphaba smiled as Mirelle's happiness seemed to be infectious. "Happy birthday Mirelle," she said as she poked her nose. The child laughed even more and Elphaba straightened up, gave a polite nod to Fiyero and the group of adults who were standing around and looking absolutely shocked at seeing the Witch acting so… so _normal_.

Elphaba left then, with a small smile for Glinda, and walked the maze of halls and stairs towards her room. She did not notice the guard that followed her until she tried to get into her room and he placed his hand harshly on the doorknob to stop her from entering. She was startled and turned to look at him.

The scream that escaped her mouth was quickly muffled by his hand. He threw the door opened, dragged her inside, and tossed her on her bed. He shut the door, shoved a nearby chair under the doorknob at an angle to keep it shut, and then faced her. Elphaba was so stunned that she could no longer find her voice as he approached her.

She remembered Letozay's face and the fear it struck into her as he stared at her in pure sexual lust just as the shaft of his gun struck her across the temple.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

_She remembered Letozay's face and the fear it struck into her as he stared at her in pure sexual lust just as the shaft of his gun struck her across the temple._

--

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**

Elphaba awoke to the feeling of something being horribly wrong but she didn't know what it was. The terror overwhelmed her and as the blackness of unconsciousness slipped from her mind and her last memories returned to her her terror did not lessen – it only grew. She sat up suddenly to find herself naked and she looked in horror at herself. Bruises covered her inner thighs and her most private area and two shallow, fresh scars had been cut into the already scarred skin of her thighs. The thin lines of blood, smeared slightly, stood out brightly on her green skin and the tears throbbed behind her eyes as some of his white fluid had caked on her thighs and lower stomach.

She ran for the bathroom and crumpled over the commode as her stomach was forcefully emptied. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't understand it. How? How could he be here? How could he have done this? The man that had been her captor for so long; how could he be back in her life again?

It had been so long since her thighs had been scarred that it made her feel dirty and useless and sent her mind reeling back to that horrible time in her life. She wanted to scream, to cry, to simply do _something_ to release the pain swirling inside of her but she couldn't. She couldn't bring voice to the pain because then it made it real and she refused to allow such a thing to happen.

She stood up, shakily, and caught her reflection in the large mirror. She couldn't stand to see her naked, green body and she grabbed the towel rod, ripped it from the wall, and threw it at the mirror. It crashed against the fragile surface and it shattered. Elphaba smiled at her successful endeavor and left the bathroom to lay eyes on her white-stained bedding. She ripped the bed sheets from her bed and tossed them to the ground in disgust. It was too much for her to handle and she could feel her emotions being shut behind her iron wall of defense. It scared her a little but the prospect of having to deal with the pain Letozay had caused her made her terrified.

A few hours later Glinda knocked quietly on Elphaba's door. The green woman had dressed herself and was curled up in the soft sofa chair by the picture window. She didn't respond to the knock so Glinda just entered on her own accord.

"Why are the bed sheets on the ground?" Glinda asked as she shut the door behind her.

"I spilt a bottle of my oils on them," Elphaba lied as she kept her eyes trained on the window. She had watched the party guests leaving a few minutes earlier which had helped her to decipher that she had not been unconscious for very long.

"Did you have any trouble?" Glinda walked to Elphaba's side, sat down on the window's ledge.

"No," she lied again, her tone flat and devoid of any emotion.

Glinda looked at her in concern. "Are you well?" she asked. "You sound… different."

"Just tired."

"I'll send for some new bedding until we can get yours clean, okay?"

"That would be nice." Silence. "Those guards that hurt me when I was in the Southstairs, what happened to them?"

"They were given an honourable discharge, why?"

"No one from there remains?"

"Just one but he was the one in charge of them. He failed in his duties to keep the prisoners there safe but he's been a trusted guard of mine since I came here so I gave him a second chance as a personal palace guard."

"And his name?"

"Letozay, why?" Glinda looked at Elphaba in concern. "He was the guard that I sent to keep Avaric away. Elphie… did something happen?"

Elphaba shook her head. "No. I was just wondering, that's all."

Glinda looked unconvinced but she did not ask questions. "You don't look that well Elphie, maybe you should go to sleep. Did the party tire you?"

"Mirelle told me she wanted to be green."

"I know, Fiyero told me."

"Why would anyone _want_ to be green?"

Glinda shrugged. "She's a child and she has always liked the colour green from the moment she was born. It calms her. I'm not surprised she would want to be that colour especially seeing that you are. She must just think that anyone can be green if they want."

Elphaba nodded and still did not take her eyes away from the window. "I would like to be alone now," she whispered.

Glinda was concerned but did not press Elphaba. "I'll send a servant to make your bed up for you, okay?"

Elphaba made a small, incomprehensible throaty noise and Glinda left then. The green woman stayed in her chair even as the servant came to make her bed. Night fell and she still did not tear her eyes away from the window. Her heart ached but she tried her best to ignore it. She feared sleeping incase Letozay should come back to torment her.

She hated herself for allowing the fear to control her.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

_She hated herself for allowing the fear to control her._

--

**Chapter Twenty-Three:**

_They don't know, _Elphaba thought to herself in desperation. _There is no way they could know._

She felt his hot breath against her skin as he kissed her neck. She felt his fingers as they ran across every raised scar on her body. She was frozen in terror and found herself unable to defend herself. Letozay seemed to have the same control over her that Avaric had had – still had. It made her mind scream at her and her heart ache but there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Every push into her body made her cringe. Every kiss upon her skin made her tremble. Every time she looked into his eyes and saw the lust and purely carnal pleasure in them it made her hate herself even more for her weakness and her inability to put a voice to his terrible actions. When he was done he left her upon her bed and strode from the room. She laid still and stared at the ceiling.

It became a schedule. Every night, just before midnight, he would come to her room. At first he had picked the lock to allow himself entrance until Elphaba had given up and simply left the door unlocked for him. He came to her with only one thing on his mind and she had not the strength to resist. Her will was broken, her strength gone, and she became listless and dull in the day. Sleep eluded her, leaving dark circles under her eyes and her head spinning. She found herself unable to dwindle away the day behind the palace walls and she often snuck away to wander the streets of the Emerald City. She hid her skin behind dark clothing and kept her head down. To take her mind off of her pain she reconnected with the resistance and threw herself into her work.

Glinda was terrified for her. Fiyero was worried. They tried to talk to her but she avoided them as much as she could. The people of Oz still feared her and the few times she ventured outside of the palace without hiding her colouring they would scream at her, bombard her with rocks, and make her life impossible to bear. Glinda did her best to try and convince the people that Elphaba was not as wicked and evil as they believed her to be but the Wizard's words could not be undone by anyone except the Wizard himself.

And so Elphaba came from her room, just three months after Mirelle's second birthday, to join Glinda and her family for breakfast to find herself standing in the dining room in shock and horror. "Why is he here?" she hissed out as she pointed at a very old man sitting at the table; it was the Wizard.

Glinda was already standing, expecting such a reaction from her friend, and she looked terrified of Elphaba. "We need his help," the blonde said quietly, trying to explain herself. "The people won't listen to me and… and I can't stand to see you trapped behind your Wicked title."

"I don't need his help!" Elphaba screamed as her fury overwhelmed her. "How could you even think about bringing him here? I… I should kill him! He deserves it!"

"Elphie… please… try to listen to reason for once. He can clear your name and then you can do so much more! Just think of what you could do to help the Animals if you had some power behind you! If your name is cleared you can help me, you can join me in this political maze I'm trying to struggle may way through!"

"I don't need anyone's help!"

"Look at yourself! Look at you! You're hardly sleeping! You barely eat! And you sneak out of here to spend your days wandering about the city doing who knows what! You're going to drive yourself crazy trying to hide yourself away like this! Anyone would!"

"Shut-up!"

"Miss Elphaba," the Wizard said. "If I may –"

"No you may not!" Elphaba shrieked as she focused her anger and feelings of betrayal on the aging man before her. "You have no right to speak to me after what you have done!"

"I did not mean to harm you."

"Well you have! You _have_ harmed me! It is you and your lies that have turned me half-insane! You are the reason behind my misery! Behind my pain!"

"I want to set my wrongs right!"

"I'm not letting you find your own redemption through helping me! I am not to be used for such a thing! I will not allow it!"

"I'm doing this for you, not for me," the Wizard said, trying to lower his voice to calm the frantic green woman down. "Everything got so out of control Miss Elphaba. I never meant for the people to hate you so I was just so afraid of you turning them against me that I felt the need to protect myself. I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry, I was wrong."

Elphaba shook her head in disgust. "I cannot believe this! After all these years of hating you I cannot allow you to help me! I cannot allow you to do such a thing that would make me… make me _owe_ you something! I have fought my whole life to have you brought down! There is no way I am allowing you to praise me! To… to make me into some martyr for _your_ cause!"

"I don't have a cause anymore. I gave that all up after you were melted by Dorothy." The Wizard stood up then but kept a hand on the table to steady his shaking and weakened body. "It's why I fled. I'm not cut out for politics. I'm not strong enough or clever enough to rule a land. I know what I did was wrong but I was desperate. People wanted something done and the actions I took were wrong but they were all I felt I could do at the time."

"Get out of here!" Elphaba screamed. "Just… just get out of my sight!"

"This isn't your house," Glinda said quietly. "You cannot cast him out."

"Then I will cast myself out!"

"Elphie, why are you so worked up about this?"

"Why? Why!" Elphaba faced Glinda, grabbed the blonde's arm harshly. "He cursed me with the damned titled of Wicked Witch! He made me into what I am! He is the reason behind so much of my pain! And for Oz's sake it was he who threw Fiyero in the Southstairs and prevented my son from ever knowing his father!"

"What?" Fiyero questioned from where he stood at the other side of the room. He did not have Mirelle so Elphaba assumed that the child was with a servant somewhere else in the palace so she would not have to witness this argument that they all must have known would occur. "What son?"

Elphaba paled dangerously, let go of Glinda's arm, and stumbled backwards. She hadn't meant to say that. She hadn't meant to tell Fiyero about his son. She knew it would be painful for him. She knew it would tear apart his relationship with Glinda even more. But she had said it anyways. In her fury she had been unable to hold her tongue. Her words, like always, had destroyed someone she cared for.

"His name was Liir," Elphaba muttered as she dropped her gaze to the floor. "I was in no right mind when he was born and, to be truthful, I do not even remember bearing him or giving birth. But he is my son, I know it." She took a deep, shaky breath. "I was a horrible mother. You would be ashamed."

"Where is he?" Fiyero voice was low with anger. "Where is this child who you claim to be my son?"

"I… I don't know," Elphaba stammered out. "He abandoned me for that Dorothy girl. Fell in love with her at first sight. I can't blame him though. I never showed him much love and he never really cared for me. He'd been in his twenties now, maybe even older. I… I just don't know."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to hurt your relationship with Glinda."

"So you lied to me!"

Elphaba snapped her head up to look at Fiyero and the fury she saw in his eyes made her flinch. "I didn't lie," she said quietly. "I just… didn't tell you everything."

"You lied to me about my own son!" He approached her then, stood right in front of her. "When did you know? Was it before they tried to kill me? Did you know and never tell me? Did you keep it a secret? Did you plan to miscarry like you have done before!"

Elphaba tried to step backwards, to distance herself from him and his anger, but he grabbed her arm and held her still. "Answer my questions!" he screamed at her. "Did you plan to kill the child before ever telling me!"

"No! I… I didn't know until afterwards. I would have told you. I would have withdrawn from the resistance. I swear to you Fiyero! If I had known I would have told you!"

His backhand startled her and sent her weak body stumbling to the side. She kept herself upright by reaching for Glinda and grabbing onto the blonde's arm. Glinda looked horrified at Fiyero's actions but before anyone could say anything a small voice interrupted them.

"Papa?"

They all turned to look in the direction the voice came from to find Mirelle standing in the entrance to the dining room. "Why you hurt Elbaba?" she asked innocently. "I like Elbaba." Her voice was choked and she looked like she was going to cry at any moment.

Fiyero looked shocked. Whether he was shocked that Mirelle had seen him hit her Auntie Freak or shocked at his own actions Elphaba could not tell. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes to try and gather his bearings. Elphaba looked at him warily as she brought her hand up to rub her now tender cheek. When no one answered little Mirelle's question the child began to cry.

To the surprise of all it was Elphaba who acted first. She went to Mirelle and scooped the child up as best as she could with only one hand and an amputated arm. She balanced the heavy child on her right hip and wrapped her right arm around Mirelle's lower back to keep her up. "It's okay," Elphaba whispered as she forced herself to smile through the tears she so dearly wished to cry. "Papa was just a little angry, okay? Have you ever been angry before?"

Mirelle nodded as she wiped at her tears with little balled fists. "When I not get my way," she muttered.

"It's kind of like that," Elphaba reassured. She was comfortable in this role. She had done this often with both Nessa and Shell and she knew how to reassure a child when they had seen violence done to one they cared for. "He didn't really mean it," Elphaba continued. "He just… couldn't control his emotions. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

Elphaba poked her nose, trying to lighten Mirelle's mood, and it worked. The child giggled and grabbed her finger. "I'll be fine," the green woman said. "And your papa's sorry."

"Really?"

"I'm sure of it. Now you go back to your playroom where you're supposed to be. How did you slip passed your nanny anyway?"

"I got ways," the child said as she let go of Elphaba's finger and grabbed her hair instead, began to tug it. "Can I stay?" she asked innocently. "I likes you."

"Not this time. The adults have to have a very important conversation and you need to go back to your playroom. I'll come visit you later, okay?"

Mirelle sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said, clearly annoyed. Elphaba let out a short laugh and set Mirelle done. The child huffed and crossed her arms but Elphaba just shook her head, turned the child around, and gave her a gentle push to send her down the hall.

When Elphaba turned around to face the room again Glinda was looking at her in shock. "How did you –"

"If there's one thing I know how to do," Elphaba interrupted the blonde bitterly, "it's how to calm a child who has unnecessarily seen violence."

"Fae, look, I'm sorry," Fiyero blurted out. "I shouldn't have –"

"Don't call me Fae!" she shrieked. She didn't like being called by her old nickname for it reminded her far too much of the love she had shared with Fiyero in the hidden room above the abandoned corn exchange. The love she had lost. The love she knew she would never have again. It made her head spin to think of how happy she had been then and how she had wasted her only chance at having a life that did not bring her constant pain.

"Elphaba then," Fiyero said in frustration. "I don't care what name you go by but I'm sorry. I shouldn't have struck you. I just… what you said, if it's true, is a little overwhelming. Surely you can understand."

Elphaba pinched the bridge of her nose to try and stem her headache. "Look, we'll talk about my failures at being a mother another time. Right now we still have this damned phony Wizard to deal with!"

"You can't run away from this," Fiyero snapped out. "This is my son you have hidden from me!"

"I know that! But he could be anywhere now and there's little that can be done about it and there's not much I have to say about him either! Right now the Wizard is a far more pressing matter!"

"Over my son!"

"Over your twenty-something son who I don't know the whereabouts of! This is far more important!"

"Elphie, Fiyero, please," Glinda pleaded. "Stop screaming at each other, it's not going to solve anything."

"You're the one who brought the Wizard here in the first place!" Elphaba yelled at the blonde. "You're the one who started this whole mess!"

"I'm trying to help you!"

"I don't need your help!"

"Yes you do!"

"Maybe I need your help Glinda but I refuse to be helped by the Wizard!"

"Can't you see the logic behind it?" Glinda was near tears as she tried to get Elphaba to see reason. "Just one announcement with the Wizard. Just stand by his side as he clears your name and then you'll be freed of this damned Wicked title of yours! Don't you want that? Don't you care about that?"

"Of course I do!" Elphaba's eyes widened, her eyebrows raised, and her mouth opened. She was shocked by her own confession. She had never thought that she cared so much about being labeled as the Wicked Witch but it seemed that being forced to hide herself away from the world had taken its toll on her. "I mean… well… it's just that… I never… well… I don't know what I mean! You've have sprung this upon me and I don't know how to respond!"

"Say yes!" Glinda pleaded. "Please! Just say yes! Trust me on this Elphie, please!"

"I cannot trust!"

Silence. Elphaba dropped her head to hide the shame that made her cheeks a dark green in colour. "It's just that… that…" her voice trailed off and she sighed heavily. "Very well," she muttered. "Very well! I will stand by the Wizard this one time and this one time only! Then he will leave us and leave Oz alone like he should!" She stormed from the dining room then and Glinda made to follow her but Fiyero grabbed the blonde's arm and held her back.

"Let her cool down for a bit," Fiyero said. "Let us _all_ cool down for a bit before we say words we regret but cannot take back."

Glinda nodded and turned to the Wizard then. "I'm sorry Master Benjamin," she said. "I knew she would not take too kindly to my idea but I never imagined she would be so very against it."

"It's quite alright," the Wizard – or Benjamin – replied as he carefully sat down, his aged body protesting at every movement he made. "I can understand how she feels. She's not one to accept help from anyone, much less someone she has spent most of her life trying to bring down. I do not judge her for it."

"At least you seem to have a level head on your shoulders."

"Much has been revealed in the last few minutes that, to be truthful, matter little to me. I am old now Miss Glinda, very old, and I have come to such a place in my life that I do not let the troubles of the world bother me so. I only do this now in repayment for how you have helped me deal with the public for so many years. In terms of Miss Elphaba I could truly care less for her."

"That's not a very nice thing to say," Fiyero spat out.

"I'm old Master Fiyero and I care little for who I offend anymore. My days are running short and I wish to spend them in peace not in the public eye again. I already said that I do this now only for Miss Glinda and no one else. Now if you don't mind I shall take my leave to my room and when you all can decide on a time for this announcement please inform me. Until then I would like to remain alone, is that understood?"

Glinda and Fiyero nodded but they were far too shocked by the Wizard's cold demeanor to question him. They simply watched him disappear down the same hallway that Elphaba had. And, as the Wizard slowly walked down the hall, he swore he heard desperately choked back sobs behind a locked door that he could only assumed was the green Witch's room.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

_And, as the Wizard walked down the hall, he swore he heard desperately choked back sobs behind a locked door that he could only assumed was the green Witch's room._

--

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

Elphaba stood on the right side of the Wizard, just behind him, on the balcony of the palace. Glinda stood on her right and Fiyero, with little Mirelle squirming in his arms, stood on the Wizard's left. Below them the courtyard had been opened to the public and was jammed to its full capacity. There were so many people that the crowd filed out of the gates and into the streets. It was overwhelming for Elphaba but she tried not to focus on the crowd below her or the Wizard beside her.

She felt like she was betraying everything she had worked for in her life.

The people of Oz were in an uproar over the Wizard and how he stood before them, for all to see. They assumed that he simply took on the form of an old man to make them feel comfortable and Elphaba despised them for their ignorance. If they only knew how much of a fake he was. If they only knew that he had no real powers. If they only knew how manipulative and poisonous he was to all he came in contact with. He was a disease to Oz. A disease that, to Elphaba, it seemed no one could quite live without anymore.

Elphaba caught snippets of his address to the people through the haze of confusing emotions swirling within her. He spoke of herself mainly, and how her altercation with Dorothy and resulting death by melting had been a rebirth of sort – had changed her. He spoke of how she was no longer the Wicked Witch, how she had seen the error of her ways and been reformed. The people soaked in every word he spoke and did not challenge him in any way. By the time he finished his speech the people were welcoming Elphaba warily… but at least welcoming her. She was no longer a protected official anymore – she was simply a free person.

She didn't feel any different.


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

_**Author's Note: **The conversation that occurs between Elphaba and the Wizard was not originally in this chapter but was added after I got a review on my last chapter about the fact that "didn't the Wizard know that he's her real father?" (or something along those lines) and I realized that Elphaba, if given the chance, would probably confront the Wizard with her suspicions that he was her father in hopes to wrangle the truth about herself and her parentage. Thus, the conversation was born and added into this chapter. I found the Wizard hard to write and took his personality from the book and not from the musical (from the book I get the impression that he is a selfish man that would not bother to think twice about who he hurt as long as his goals were met but who is still human and, in his youth, would feel guilty for the wrongs he did but that in his old age and with life running out he has chosen not to dwell on his past). Whether you agree with my impression of him or not is really up to you and I would dearly like some feedback on how I've written him. I hope I didn't make him out into too much of a bastard in this chapter and if I did then I'm sorry for it was not my intention._

_And since I'm writing an author's note I think I shall take this opportunity to thank all those that have read this story and especially to those who have reviewed and will review. So, thank you! Remember, reviews make authors happy! And happy authors write faster! :)  
_

--

_She didn't feel any different._

--

**Chapter Twenty-Five:**

Elphaba found herself thrust into the political games of Oz. With her newfound freedom Glinda dragged her to secret meetings with people she had never met before. She was horrified to learn of the civil wars occurring in both Munchkinland and the Vinkus that no one seemed to care enough about to do anything to stop them. She discovered the she was quite the talker and that getting people to see her way as the right way was easier when she spoke with the right, the pretty, words that she needed. She learned that she was just as manipulative as she had always believed the Wizard to be but she tried to convince herself that this was for the greater good – that her lies and pretty words would bring them to the right end.

Glinda was ecstatic that Elphaba took so easily to her new political roll. But Glinda didn't know that Elphaba still played her part in the resistance and the green woman was soon a double servant. She just didn't know which side she was truly on anymore.

And Letozay still came ever night. And Elphaba still refused to sleep. She would stay awake until she became so exhausted that her body would fail her and she would slip into unconsciousness. She stopped eating altogether and only ever ate when Glinda or Fiyero forced her too. She kept her distance from her two friends – afraid of their concern and the questions they would ask – and she stopped playing with Mirelle because she feared that the constant smell of whiskey on her breath was not good for a child of such a young age.

It was a few months after the Wizard first came to the palace that Elphaba decided to take action. The door to the Wizard's room was thrown open and the old man looked up from the book he was reading at the sound of the door striking the wall from the force it had been opened with. He was sitting in a large leather chair near the door that lead to the balcony outside. The door was open and the warm breeze filtered in, teasing the Wizard's white hair and tickling Elphaba's skin.

"You my father!" Elphaba spat out. The Wizard did not flinch at her acid tongue as he noticed that she reeked of alcohol and he doubted she even knew what she was saying.

"Is that so?" he asked quietly, calmly, as he closed his book and set it down on the table beside him. "And what gave you that notion?"

"Clock of the Time Dragon!"

"That blubbering mess of a mechanical machine? The one that had been run but that silly old dwarf?"

"He the guardian of the Grimmerie!" Elphaba shrieked. "And he show the truth!"

"And you, Miss Elphaba Thropp, are inebriated."

"Am _what_?"

"Inebriated. Drunk, if you cannot understand the complexities of language in your state." He sounded amused, like this was all one big joke to him, and that only angered Elphaba further.

"Am not!"

"You stink of alcohol and you cannot speak properly. I can assure you that you are most definitely drunk. And if you would not mind I would like it if you left now."

"I do mind!"

The Wizard sighed. "Miss Elphaba, I have nothing to say to you and I do not care for anything you may have to say to me."

"You gave my mother this!" Elphaba screamed as she threw a bottle at the Wizard; a bottle he had not noticed she was holding. He barely managed to react in time to catch it but thankfully he did. "They call you Oscar, but Glinda called you Benjamin, what false name did you give my mother! What was in that bottle! Did you drug her! Am I some product of rape? Tell me! What _am_ I!"

"Ah, the Miracle Elixir," the Wizard muttered, more to himself that to Elphaba, as he looked at the torn label on the green bottle. "A time in my life I had forgotten of."

"What is it!"

"A high concentrated amount of alcohol, there might have been some form of drugs in it too… I cannot remember now." He smiled at the memories. "I gave many women this drink and had many nights of fun with them. I forgot how, unrestrained, I was in my youth."

"So you drugged women and raped them!" Elphaba shrieked; she was beside herself now at the thought of the Wizard being in the same moral range of such vile men in her life as Avaric and Letozay.

"They were all consenting Miss Elphaba, there was no rape to speak of. But how funny your mind should jump to such a conclusion, don't you think?"

"You enjoying this!"

"I am amused, I will not lie."

She stumbled towards the Wizard, her path wavering and her vision blurred. "I am not some spectacle for you to gawk at! I am not some show to entertain you! I am your child! Can you not see that?"

"Dorothy brought this bottle back to me and, if I remember correctly, I gave it to Glinda for she was bent on having it. Did she return it to you or did you steal it back?" He was talking to himself, as old men are prone to do, and did not intend for Elphaba to answer him.

She did though. "Glinda gave back it… to me," Elphaba said, stumbling over her word ordering, and her voice was oddly quiet, oddly controlled. "I took the last of it in Vinkus, before I melted. Strange dreams I got and only worsened my insomnia."

"You're talking strangely."

"I drunk, you said so yourself!"

"What was your mother's name? Where did she reside when you claimed for me to have conceived you with her?"

"Melena! Her name was Melena Thropp! And I don't remember where she lived! She had loose morals, I remember! Would bed any man who was willing!"

"Yet you claim that I raped her? Such a strange contradiction, don't you think?"

Elphaba frowned and sat herself down on the edge of the Wizard's bed as she no longer trusted herself to stay standing. "Perhaps…" she said and her voice trailed off. "You come from different world, don't you?"

"Yes."

"The Grimmerie, comes from there?"

"Yes."

"I can read the book, somewhat, when no one else from Oz can. Can you read the book?"

"I can read it, yes, but I cannot perform the spells… as you well know."

"Does that not prove the truth?"

"The fact that a Witch can read a book of magickal spells? I hardly think that proves that you are my daughter."

"But the bottle!"

"Perhaps I did give it to your mother. Perhaps I did bed her. But that proves nothing. Tell me, Miss Elphaba, how many times have you been bedded? How many times have you had sex, willingly or not? And how many times have you been pregnant?"

"Many times," she muttered as an answer to the Wizard's first question. "And few times," she offered as a response to his question of her child bearing.

"So, with basic reasoning skills – which I realize you might be lacking of at this particular moment – we can assume that the chance that I was the one to father you is highly unlikely, is it not?"

"But… but!"

"But what?"

"But it… it just… Frex was… and I'd –"

"Are you simply trying to make me out to be your father because you hate your own father so severely? If that is the truth then that seems odd to me since you seem to hold such bitter feelings towards me."

"I want the truth!" Elphaba shrieked. "That is all I want! Just the truth!"

"The truth is hard to come by for often it is never really known."

"Perhaps you don't want to see the truth!"

"I don't deny that." The Wizard grimaced at Elphaba's horror-stricken face. "Try to understand, I am old and I have done many things I regret, harmful things… and yes, I know I have harmed you. If I allowed myself to believe that you are my daughter think of how regretful and guilty I would feel? I'm too old for such emotions and I only wish to spend the last of my days in peace."

"You _want_ peace? You _wish_ for peace? I have wished for many things my dear Benjamin! Or Oscar! Or the Wizard! Or whatever you are to be called! I wish for love! For acceptance! For freedom! For death! I have never gotten what I wanted why should you!" She was standing now, and shaking with fury. "Do not talk to me of wishes! Wishes only wound the heart! Wishes are futile and useless and if one cannot have them fulfilled than no one should!"

"I think you should leave now."

"I think not!"

"I have nothing more to say to you."

"I have plenty left to say to you!"

"Miss Elphaba, leave, now."

"I refuse!"

The Wizard stood up and slowly, due to his age, made his way towards the frantic and overwrought green Witch. He raised his hand quickly, made to strike the stubborn, drunk woman before him, but Elphaba shrunk away from him and stumbled over her feet. She nearly fell but steadied herself by grabbing a hold of the bed post near her.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed out.

"It's time for you to leave before I do that very thing."

Elphaba's face fell as she realized, through her drunken haze, that she was not going to get the confession from the Wizard that she was desperate for. "Why can no one face the truth in their lives?" she questioned but her voice was meek and it was clear that she was talking to herself. The Wizard chose not to respond and instead turned his back on the Witch, returned to his chair, and did not see the tears of despair and hopelessness shining in Elphaba's brown eyes.

As he sat down and opened his book he heard the door slam shut behind the fleeing Witch and frowned. He tried to read but he found his mind distracted as Elphaba's words had awaken an emotional part of him that he had long thought lost. He had come to the conclusion that he was Elphaba's father on his own many, _many_ years ago but the fact that Elphaba had come to the same conclusion scared him. It meant that it really could be true – that perhaps the pieces of the puzzle did create a world in which he _was_ the Witch's father and that frightened him. It frightened him because it meant that all the horrors he had done against the Witch were that much worse for the fact alone that she was his daughter. In a way it made him sick so he chose to ignore the bitter truth because so far that had always worked for him.

Three days later the Wizard left – spending a total of five months in the Emerald City – and returned to the Gillikin with specific instructions to never be called upon again. Fiyero and Glinda agreed simply because the tension in the palace with both the Wizard and Elphaba around was nearly unbearable. They did not know of the conversation that had occurred between the drunken Elphaba and the aging Wizard and they had no clue of how Elphaba believed that the Wizard was her father. They did not know so they did not understand why Elphaba seemed so disappointed, and yet strangely happy at the same time, when the Wizard left.

The people of Oz, however, were not happy with the Wizard's disappearance from their lives for the second time. They turned their anger towards Elphaba and the green Witch, who had found a couple months of freedom and peace, was soon the brunt of crude words and snide remarks again. When she walked through the city, either on her own or with Glinda, the people would not part for her as they would for the blonde. Though none outwardly defiled her name or tried to hurt her she was either treated disrespectfully or treated as if she did not exist.

She tried to force herself not to care but in reality it hurt – to know that no matter what she did her efforts would never be appreciated. It made her wonder why she tried so hard in the first place but when she laid eyes on Glinda she knew where her strength came from.

It was for Glinda. Everything she did was for Glinda now. She had tossed her own worth away the moment that Letozay had made his reemergence in her life. She played the political games she hated because it helped to lessen the responsibility that rested on Glinda's shoulders and because she felt that she did not deserve happiness; as she did not deserve a father, or a mother, or true love. Besides, she could never have Fiyero again and she knew that without him she would never again have true happiness. He was the key to her joy, to her worth in this world, and she had lost him to the blonde woman who was her best friend.

It was no wonder that her heart felt shattered.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

_It was no wonder that her heart felt shattered._

--

**Chapter Twenty-Six:**

"He was a chubby child," Elphaba said.

Fiyero looked up from where he sat in his study signing some papers of some sort of importance that Elphaba did not understand nor cared to understand. "My son?" he questioned, trying to keep his temper in check.

Elphaba sat down on a chair near his and stared at the floor. "Yes," she replied.

"What was he like?"

Elphaba shrugged. "A frightened puppy really. Your children teased him mercilessly and Manek – poor little Manek – nearly drowned him in the fishwell. A cruel child's game never meant to harm Liir but it did. Nearly died and if it wasn't for Nanny he would have. I was so frozen with fear when it happened that I could barely function. I think that was when I finally realized that Liir might actually be mine."

"I still don't understand how you could not know."

"After you… after you died," Elphaba choked out. "I was consumed by grief… and possibly drained to near death by my magick. I fell into some strange half-sleep state. I don't remember it much."

"And then?"

"There was my time at the mauntery. Then my time at Kiamo Ko. I went there searching for Sarima's forgiveness for being the cause of your murder but I never received it and… and in the end I was the cause for their murders."

Fiyero inhaled sharply at that. "You… you were the cause?" he asked.

"I don't really know," Elphaba whispered. "But I assumed so. And it happened when I was gone. I left to visit Nessa, the last time I saw her before she died, and when I came back only Nanny remained, and Liir. He had been away when they had stormed the castle and returned afterwards. I was so thankful that at least someone had lived."

"They killed them all, just like that?"

Elphaba shook her head. "Nanny said they just took them. I spent seven long years trying to devise a way to get them back but all my plans crumbled before they even took shape. Then I went to Nessa's funeral and saw the Wizard then, he told me all but Nor were dead. I followed a few leads when Glinda released me from the Southstairs, did things to people – and for people – that I should not have to only learn that Nor died from poor health. None of it was recorded you see so there was no paperwork to tell me what had happened. I did my best but, like always, it was not good enough. I was too late, too late to save any of them."

Fiyero was silent, too shocked to say anything. He had never heard what had really happened to his first family and now the truth was bitter and hard to swallow.

"If I had just been there," Elphaba muttered angrily, more to herself then to Fiyero, "maybe they would still be alive. If I hadn't felt the need to go to Nessa they could still be here, with you!"

"I think you should go," Fiyero said, "before I lose control of my anger and say words I regret."

Elphaba shook her head. "Don't hold back," she whispered. "Please. Scream at me, yell me, hit me. I deserve it. I deserve far more than any punishment you could hand down on me."

"I'm not the one to punish you."

"It is your family I killed. You are the only one with the right to such a thing."

He grabbed her wrist then; threw her against the large sofa. She shrieked in surprise and fear but he placed his forefinger against her lips. "Hush," he said and she could see the animalistic lust in his eyes as she stared at him.

She hitched up her dress as he wrestled with the belt of his pants. For a nearly an hour they took themselves back to their days in Elphaba's modest home above the abandon corn exchange. Their breaths came in heaving gasps as she clawed his back and he nibbled on her ears, kissed her neck tenderly. They had to make a conscious effort to be quiet as their bodies intertwined together – a green field wrapping up through high brown mountains. They became one body, one person, one soul and Fiyero had the presence of mind – even in the grips of his pleasure – to cover Elphaba's mouth with his hand to muffle the moans she could not keep under control.

When they had expelled all their energy they laid together on the sofa in exhaustion. Elphaba was gasping for breath as her weak body was in no condition to have partaken in the activity that had just occurred between them.

"This was wrong," Elphaba murmured as they laid face to face, their heaving chests touching. "So, so very wrong."

"I know."

"It can never happen again."

"I know." He had his face buried in her messy hair, smelling it, and the scent he picked up shocked him. "You smell of something… something wrong," he said quietly, confused. "Of smoke and gun powder and… and it smells like the guards if I'm not mistaken. Like _a_ guard."

Elphaba jerked away from him and tumbled off the sofa. She stood up hastily; desperately smoothing down her crumpled dress. "No!" she shrieked. How could he know? How could he tell?

"Elphaba… are you –"

"No!" Elphaba was frantic, nearly hysterical. "No and no! There is no other man! There is… there is… there is no one else…" Her voice trailed off into choked sobs and she sat down right where she stood, in the middle of his study. She buried her head in her hands, tried to keep her tears at bay. "No one else," she muttered through her hitched breaths. "There… he… it cannot… I refuse… I was not to say… no one else… no voice… no voice to it… no voice and it never happens..."

Fiyero looked at her in concern. "Elphaba, what are you rambling on about?" he asked as he made his way towards her; kneeled down in front of her trembling form. "What's wrong?"

She tried to shrink away from him. "There is no one else!" she screamed as she raised her head to look at him. He could tell that she was lying, anyone could, but the pain that swirled in her eyes spoke of a horror much greater than just having a secret relationship with someone. Whoever this other man was Fiyero knew it was no relationship – not with these hysterics, not with this pain.

"Someone is hurting you," Fiyero whispered, trying to calm her down by speaking for her. "Who is it?"

She closed her eyes, shook her head. "There is no one," she repeated because she feared making her pain a reality by putting a voice to his terrible actions. And she feared admitting how weak she truly was by not being able to fight him off.

"You know I can see through you lies. Who is it? Tell me so I can put an end to it. Please Elphaba, I want to help you."

"I'm not lying!" she screamed but the tears that were pooling in her eyes betrayed her.

Fiyero sighed and used the edge of his sleeve to wipe away the tears perched on the edge of Elphaba's eyelashes – threatening to spill down her face and burn her skin. "Please, after all we've been through together can you still not trust me?"

She stared at him, her bottom lip quivering as she tried not to cry. "Remember, back in the Emerald City," she began, her voice trembling and barely audible, "and the time you… you saw my… scarred thighs. The time you found out that I was… had been… a whore?"

He nodded; afraid to speak incase he should say the wrong thing by accident and scare her into silence.

Elphaba dropped her gaze to study the wood grain of the floor. "Before you came, before our affair, there was this man. He… he kept me locked in a room. Made me, made me perform a service for the men who desired a night of pleasure. It was over two years of nightly visits. Two years of a life of a whore. I hated it but I was too weak to free myself. I could have, I could have escaped if I had wanted to but it wasn't until Malky came back to me that I found my strength again."

"Who was this man?" Fiyero asked gently as he realized that there must be some connection between the man who had hurt her in her past and the man that was hurting her now.

"Turns out he was an official," Elphaba murmured. "That's why no one questioned why he kept an illegal whore in his house to service the men in the illegal bar he ran."

"An official?" Fiyero questioned in horror. "Elphaba, is this official still working? Was he never charged?"

"To put a voice to his horrors would mean admitting what has happened," she choked out. "He was never charged because the person he hurt was always too afraid that she wouldn't be believed to tell anyone what had happened. So she tried to pretend it never happened by never confronting him because running away was just… easier."

Fiyero wrapped his arms around Elphaba; pulled her close to him. She buried her head in his chest and desperately bit back her sobs. "His name was Letozay," she choked out. "His name _is_ Letozay. And he comes at night, every night, and uses the woman he hurt like the whore he made her into so long ago."

"Oh, Elphaba…" Fiyero was forced to close his eyes to stop his own tears that threatened to fall. "Elphaba, why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't think anyone would believe me."

"Why would you think such a thing?"

"Why do I do anything I do?"

Fiyero held her tighter as her body trembled with the emotional pain raging through her. "I'm going to put an end to this today. There will be no visit from Letozay tonight, I can promise you that."

"You have no proof that what I say is true," Elphaba muttered. "And though you might believe me not everyone else will."

"Go to bed tonight and I will stay with you. When Letozay comes I will be there and I will not let him harm you. I will just get the evidence I need to get him removed from duty."

Elphaba nodded and shrunk further into Fiyero's hold. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so very, very much."

That night Elphaba laid in her bed staring at the ceiling. Even though she knew that Fiyero and another official, one that both Fiyero and Elphaba trusted, was in her bathing room with the desire only to protect her she could not shake the fear that swallowed her heart. She was terrified that tonight would be the night that Letozay did not come just because fate was often cruel to her in that way.

Just before midnight she heard the door squeak open and her breath caught in her throat. She looked only at the ceiling as Letozay peeled the sheets back from her body and crawled on top of her; straddled her. She heard the rustling of clothing as he pulled his pants down and then leaned down, put his hands on either side of her shoulders, and kissed her – chewed on her bottom lip slightly. "You're being particularly cold tonight," he whispered into her ear as his hand came down to grab the hem of her nightgown and bunch it up around her waist.

"You're raping me," she spat out harshly – it was the most she had ever said to him since this torturous routine had begun the night of Mirelle's second birthday. "How else am I supposed to act?"

"Now, now Miss Elphaba," he said with a smile. "Rape is such a harsh term. I prefer something a little lighter. How about… oh, I don't know – forced sex? Doesn't that sound nicer?"

He felt the cold metal of the gun pressed against his temple then. He started slightly and his shock was revealed on face. Elphaba stared at him, eyes cold and full of anger. "It's over," she whispered at him. "It's over Letozay. You had your fun with me and now it's come to an end."

He smiled at her as Fiyero grabbed his arm and forced him from the bed. "At least I enjoyed it," he said with a laugh. "I fucking enjoyed our years together. Didn't you?"

"Pull up your pants!" Fiyero snapped at him as his grip on his arm tightened and the gun was pressed against his temple even harder. "Before I shoot off you dick right here!"

He turned his head to look at Fiyero with a sick, twisted smile on his face. "I dare you too! I dare you to do any disciplinary action towards me without a court's approval!"

Elphaba flinched instinctively and let out a yelp of shock as the gun went off. Letozay screamed as Fiyero let go of his arm and tossed him away. He crumpled to the ground and curled in on himself as he clutched at his private area and tried to stem the blood that poured from his membrane – the membrane that Fiyero had just shot at.

Fiyero turned to the other official. "Get him out of here!" he snapped. "Send him to the Southstairs where he fucking belongs!"

The official nodded respectively and grabbed Letozay's arm. He was forced to half-drag, half-carry the bleeding man out of the room.

Elphaba pulled her nightgown down to cover herself as Fiyero sat down on the edge of her bed. She sat up and reached over, took the gun from his limp grasp, and set it on the nightstand. "You scared me there," she whispered. "You didn't have to shoot him."

"I'm sorry," he said as he stared at the floor. "I just… got angry."

"Thank you. For… for stopping him."

"I should have done this a long time ago."

"You never knew," Elphaba said, trying to comfort him. "You had no idea."

"How long?" Fiyero asked suddenly as he turned his head to look at Elphaba. She dropped her gaze to stare at the bedding. "How long?" he repeated as he reached out and cupped the side of Elphaba's face and made her look at him. She closed her eyes, refused to look at him, and did not answer. "Elphaba, please. How long has he been hurting you?"

"Since Mirelle's second birthday party," Elphaba finally answered.

"Is there anyone else?"

Elphaba shook her head as best as she could with Fiyero's hand against her cheek.

"Promise me you're telling me the truth," Fiyero said, "because I cannot bear the thought of you suffering at anyone's hands under my watch. Is there anyone else?"

"I promise Fiyero, there is no one else."

"And if anyone ever tries to hurt you again you come right to me, okay? Promise me that you will not suffer in silence ever again."

Elphaba opened her eyes to look at Fiyero in annoyance. "I'm not a weak child who cannot take care of themselves!" she snapped out.

"You're not weak," Fiyero said. "You just don't always think your worth being helped, and you _are_ Elphaba. You are worth happiness."

"You know how I feel about my own happiness." Elphaba brought her remaining hand up to her face to take a hold of Fiyero's hand and gently push it away from her. "Without your love I will never find the happiness I once had."

"Then I'll give you my love."

"I'm not going to carry on an affair with you right underneath Glinda's nose!" Elphaba shrieked. "Are you insane!"

"Don't you understand Elphaba? I love you more than I love Glinda. I always have."

"Does it matter anymore? You have a daughter Fiyero! Maybe your morals are different in the Vinkus but from what I was taught growing up you cannot just abandon your family!" She stood up; began to pace – careful of the blood that had pooled on the floor from where Fiyero had shot Letozay. "And I am not going to be the mistress that ruins your family! Mirelle deserves a father and a mother who love each other! Not single mother and a father who abandoned her for the green freak of a witch!"

"So you really do wish to be with her, don't you?"

Fiyero and Elphaba both whirled around at the new voice to find Glinda standing in the doorway. She looked like she was about to cry. "I have given you my heart Fiyero," Glinda whispered. "But it is not enough, is it? It will never be enough."

"Glinda… no, it's not like that!" Fiyero said, frantically.

"_You will never abandon me_," Glinda quoted the words Fiyero had so often said. "But you would not think twice about having an affair with Elphaba, would you?"

"I wouldn't… Glinda… I would never –"

"But you already have," Glinda said. She smiled sadly at the shocked looks on both Fiyero and Elphaba's face. "Did you think no one would see you two? Earlier today, in the study, on the sofa. Yes, a guard saw. And yes, that guard told me."

"Was it Letozay?" Elphaba spat out bitterly.

Glinda looked shocked. "Yes," she said quietly. "But how did you know?"

"He knew," Elphaba muttered as she began to pace again. "He must have had some sort of inclination that his time was running out! He searched for a way to cause me pain even after he was gone!"

"Gone? Where has Letozay gone? What in Oz's name are you talking about?" Glinda's voice rose in frustration with every word she spoke. "What is going on that you two are not telling me about!"

Elphaba whirled around to face Glinda in anger. "Letozay has raped me every night since Mirelle's second birthday party! And neither of you cared enough to notice! Sure it was my fault for never telling anyone but you know how impossible it is for me to admit my weaknesses and I was begging for someone to notice! But no one ever did! Fiyero only did because we had sex and he smelled my hair and it smelled like another man! He must have thought I was whoring myself out again or something but this was even worse!" Elphaba brushed at her eyes with the back of her sleeve to rid herself of her tears before they escaped her control and burnt her skin. "At least when I whore myself out it is _my_ choice! This was just… this was just rape! And no one noticed because no one cares enough about me to notice!"

Glinda was shocked. "Letozay?" she breathed. "It… it can't be. You… you lie!" She pointed at Elphaba in accusation. "You are just a lying, husband-stealing slut! How is it that I even ever considered you my friend! You were just having sex with Letozay, weren't you?" The blonde was furious at Elphaba simply for the fact that Fiyero loved the green woman more than he loved his daughter's mother. "And then you were ashamed at being discovered so you claimed he raped you the same day you _seduce_ my husband! You fucking slut! Get out of this palace! Get out of my sight!"

Elphaba stood still in stunned silence as Glinda turned on her heal and strode from the room, slamming the door behind her. Her confession of what Letozay had done to her had become exactly what she feared it would. She was not believed and her words had been twisted into some horrible lie that Glinda was desperate to believe. Her remaining hand balled into a fist at her side and her mind spun with regret, despair, and guilt.

"Fae," Fiyero whispered as he moved to stand behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

She shrugged him off. "Get out," she whispered; her voice bitter and laced with grief. "Get out before I hurt you."

"What are you –"

"Get out!" she shrieked as she felt the magick swirling in her and becoming uncontrollable. "Just get out!" The moonlight that shined in through the window seemed to be suddenly blocked and Elphaba and Fiyero became shrouded in total darkness. Fiyero heard cracking glass from within the bathing room and from the window behind him. The air began to spin around him as a wind that was not natural overwhelmed the room.

Elphaba grabbed Fiyero's wrist, dragged him towards the door, and threw him from the room. "Stay away from me!" she screamed at him. "I only ruin the lives I touch! Get out and stay out!" The door shut in his face and he reached for it, tried to open it, but found that though it was not locked he could not make the door budge.

The sounds he heard coming from the other side of the door terrified him but there was nothing he could do but wait out Elphaba's destructive magick. It didn't take long, not even ten minutes, before all sound ceased. Fiyero opened the door to find Elphaba lying in a crumpled heap near the now shattered window. She was curled up, almost in the fetal position, with a rather large piece of glass clutched in her hand.

He kneeled down beside her and gently pried the glass from her hand. She had not caved to her desire to harm herself and for that Fiyero was grateful for but he feared that she had only weakened her already frail body by her inability to control her magick.

"Fiyero," she whispered; her voice quiet and weak. "I… I don't think I can get up. Can you… well… can you take me to my bed. Please? I'd like to sleep now, if I can."

"Of course." Fiyero scooped up her lithe frame with ease and set her on her bed. Her sheets had become twisted and thrown about due to her magickal outburst and it took him a few minutes to straighten them out enough to cover Elphaba's trembling body. "I'm going to stay with you tonight, okay? Just to make sure that everything's alright."

Elphaba curled up underneath the warmth that the sheets provided her and turned so that he back faced Fiyero. "No," she said, her voice suddenly strong. "You must go now," she said. "You just must."

"I'm afraid for you."

"Don't be," she said and her voice held no room for argument. "Go now and leave me be. Please Fiyero… I beg of you."

"I don't think it will help."

"It won't help me," she said truthfully. "But it will help you and Glinda, trust me in this."

"You're not exactly the best person to be taking advice from."

"I know that what I want only ruins the lives around me so it would make sense then that I do what I do not want."

"You cannot live your life only striving for others happiness. You must find your own as well."

"Fiyero, please. I'm tired and I wish to be alone now."

Fiyero finally relented and left Elphaba then. When she was confident that he was gone she slowly sat up, her vision spinning, and struggled from the bed. Her body was too exhausted to function properly and she was forced to crawl across the floor until she reached the pile of broken glass that remained of the window. She grabbed a large, sharp piece and sat herself down on the floor near the pool of Letozay's drying blood. The shard of glass cut into the skin of her right arm, drew blood that slid down her skin and dripped to the floor. It mixed with Letozay's blood and she felt that such an occurrence was supposed to be some symbol – was supposed to have some sort of meaning – but there was nothing there. It didn't matter how deep the glass dug into her skin, or how long she made the wounds, or how much blood spilt from her body, there was simply nothing. There was no release, there was no pain, there was no relief.

There was nothing.

The glass trailed down to her thighs which were bare to the world by how she sat cross-legged with her dress bunch up around her hips. The scars that were there from her years under Letozay's control were faint now, barely raised above the smoothness of her untouched skin, but they were still there.

The glass cut into her inner right thigh. She flinched at the unexpected pain the act brought her and bit her bottom lip to try and silence her whimpers. This was the first time she had ever brought anything sharp to the skin below her stomach and it felt… different; not exactly painful but not as numb as gouging her arms was to her now.

When she was done the word she had cut into herself was large and written not in the smooth letters she used to be capable of writing when she had had her right-hand. For all her efforts she had never gained the same motor-skills with her left hand that she had had with her right. Even so there was no mistaken what she now though of herself as. It was as if Glinda's hurtful words – spoken in anger and not truth – had already overtaken Elphaba's fragile mind for it was the word 'slut' that she had dug into her thigh before exhaustion overwhelmed her and she fell unconscious in the pool of her and Letozay's blood.


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

_Even so there was no mistaken what she now though of herself as. It was as if Glinda's hurtful words – spoken in anger and not truth – had already overtaken Elphaba's fragile mind for it was the word 'slut' that she had dug into her thigh before exhaustion overwhelmed her and she fell unconscious in the pool of her and Letozay's blood._

--

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:**

"Auntie Freak?" Mirelle questioned as she gently shook Elphaba's shoulder. The child was standing in the sticky pool of dried blood that Elphaba had fallen unconscious in. "Elbaba? Auntie Freak?"

Elphaba moaned but did not wake up.

"Elbaba!" Mirelle's voice got louder in her frustration. "Elbaba!" She pushed her. "Wake up Elbaba! Wake up!"

Elphaba could hear Mirelle's voice but tried to shut it out. The shrill, high-pitched screaming of her name only made her headache worsen and she did not want to face whoever was trying to wake her. It seemed so much easier to simply stay in the blissful ignorance that unconsciousness gave her.

"Elbaba! Please! Auntie Freak! Wake up! Wake! Up!"

Was Mirelle crying? Elphaba couldn't tell and she didn't have the energy nor the desire to open her eyes and see. She knew she should force herself awake so that she could comfort the distraught child but she just couldn't find the strength within in to do such a thing.

Then silence fell around Elphaba as Mirelle ran from the room calling for her mother and father. The child was confused as to why her green aunt would not awaken and she was scared because she didn't understand. Some part of Elphaba's foggy mind knew this but she could not find it within herself to care about such a seemingly trivial thing.

"Elphaba?"

_This voice is new, _Elphaba thought to herself but she could not place it. It was a woman's voice, she knew that, but she didn't know who.

"I know I said some things that weren't very nice yesterday but I'm sorry, okay? Can you hear me Elphie? Because I would really like for you to wake up if you could. Can you do that? If not for me then at least for Mirelle? Please? She's really scared for you. She doesn't understand."

_Glinda, _Elphaba realized. _The voice belongs to Glinda. _Elphaba was shocked that the blonde had come back to her; that Glinda still cared for her. She had to wake up now, she knew that, she owed Glinda that for coming back to her after all that she had done to ruin her friend's perfectly crafted life. So she forced her eyes opened and was met with the blurred sight of a pale face, red lips, and blonde curls.

"Elphie?" Glinda looked awfully concerned. "Elphie, can you hear me?"

"Mh?" Elphaba mumbled out as she tried to make sense of what she was doing on the floor.

"Elphie!" Glinda wrapped her arms around Elphaba's frail body and hugged her close, half dragging her up into a sitting position leaning against the blonde's body. "Oh, oh, Elphie! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have said those words last night! I… I didn't mean them! I was just –"

"Can you speak a little quieter please?" Elphaba interrupted the blonde. "I already have a headache."

Glinda nodded. "I'm sorry Elphie," she continued in a much quieter voice; though still frantic. "I really, really am. I was just angry and not thinking straight. I didn't mean to call you a liar. I should have believed what you said about Letozay but you must understand that that man used to be a trusted official of mine. It hurt when you accused him and it was a bitter drink to swallow but it was wrong of me to doubt you. And it was wrong of me to call you those names."

"Slut."

Elphaba and Glinda turned to look at Mirelle in shock for what the child had uttered. "What did you say?" Glinda asked, far too harshly.

Mirelle pointed a small, chubby finger towards Elphaba scarred thigh as her nightgown was still crumpled around her hips and did not hide what she had done to herself. "Slut," she repeated as she read the word that Elphaba had cut into herself mere hours before.

Glinda stared in horror; not just at the very word that was now permanently etched into Elphaba's green thigh but also at the sheer volume of scars that decorated her green skin. "Mirelle," Glinda whispered. "You should go down to the playroom, okay?"

Mirelle looked up at her mother in annoyance. "Why?" she questioned. "I want stay! I want Elbaba!"

"The adults need to talk," Glinda replied distractedly as she reached out and grabbed Elphaba's hand – stopping the green woman from pulling her nightgown down to cover her scarred thighs. "Mirelle, please. Don't argue with mother, not this time."

Mirelle huffed but said no more as she stormed from the room and down the hall. When Glinda was confident that her daughter was out of hearing range she turned her complete attention back on Elphaba who still sat resting against the blonde's body. "Did Letozay do this to you?" she asked quietly as her fingers gently ran over the scars on Elphaba's thigh.

Elphaba shuddered and turned her head to look at the wall so she would not have to face Glinda. "It was a long time ago," she eventually muttered. "And a story I'd rather not tell."

"Was it Letozay?"

"In a way."

"Elphie…"

"It was before my affair with Fiyero," Elphaba blurted out. She sat up completely and pulled her nightgown down to cover herself. "And after I left Shiz, after the Wizard labeled me as the Wicked Witch. I was terrified and weak and I got drunk at a bar one night. I left and there were these men. You have to understand, I was still circumcised at the time, and they overtook me. They had this knife, cut me open, and raped me. There was five of them. It hurt, I remember that. And then I stumbled through the streets, broke into a bar, and stole a bottle of whiskey, or scotch, or something like that… I can't remember the details." She closed her eyes then, took a deep breath. "A man came down the stairs into the bar, recognized me as the Wicked Witch, and saw how I was bleeding from being cut opened and used. He knocked me unconscious with his gun and then… then he just… he…"

"He what?" Glinda asked as she reached out and took Elphaba's hand in her own, squeezed it in reassurance.

"It was Letozay," Elphaba whispered, her voice choked and broken. "And he kept me locked up for over two years. Every night, every single night he would send up a man – sometimes even a woman! – to rape me! They paid _him_ for the use of _my_ body!" She was angry now, and it was clear in the tone of her voice. "It was only a locked door that kept me from freedom but I was too damned scared and weak to break free of his hold on me! And every single time they raped me they would cut into my thigh to mark me as a whore! Do you know why Glinda? Do you!"

Glinda looked terrified at Elphaba's outburst but she did not let go of the green hand she held and simply shook her head as a response to her friend's question.

"Because each scar told the other men how many times I have been used! And the more I have been used the less I was worth! So the less money Letozay could charge for me and the more men I had to service for him to make the same profit! In time I was used so much that the men and women who paid for my body gave up on marking me because there was no more room and it was useless! I had been demeaned down to as low of a worth as possible for a whore! I couldn't be worth any less as a human being then I was when Letozay had me trapped!"

Glinda was horrified. She had tried to hold her tears back but had been unsuccessful. Elphaba looked so distraught and sounded so angry that it made the blonde's heart constrict just to hear what her friend had been through. "Have you ever told anyone else?" Glinda asked quietly.

Elphaba dropped her gaze to the floor and took in a shaky breath. "Only Fiyero," she choked out. "And not like that, not with that… detail. Fiyero only knew because he saw the scars by accident one day. I… I tried to hide them from him because I was terrified he would leave me if he knew."

"You were raped Elphie… he wouldn't leave you because of that."

"I am used!" Elphaba spat out. "And besides, I could have left at anytime if I had just not been so terrified of the world outside that damned locked door!"

Glinda pulled Elphaba close to her and took the distraught green woman into a hug. "You weren't weak," the blonde whispered. "You were forced into a horrible situation and you dealt with it to the best of your abilities. And do you know what is the best thing about it?" Glinda asked. Elphaba shook her head in a silent answer as she could not find her voice. "You survived," Glinda said. "You survived your ordeal and came out stronger for it. That's something to be proud of, don't you think?"

Elphaba shrugged in Glinda's hold. "I guess," she muttered. "But I don't feel very proud over what I let them do to me."

"It's not what they did to you that matters," Glinda replied. "It's the fact that you didn't let them break you."

"I feel broken."

"You might feel broken but you're not. You might feel like you want to end your life but you haven't yet. And that's because you're strong Elphie, stronger than anyone else I've ever met. Be proud of that, be proud of who you are because you are one-of-a-kind. You are Elphaba Thropp, no one else, and you should be proud of that."

Elphaba sniffled, choked back her tears, and nodded. She pulled away from Glinda's hold and looked up at the blonde. "All my life," she began, "I have believed in the recovery of others, in the ability for others to heal, but… but –" she dropped her gaze to the floor "– I never believed in such a thing for myself. So I've just… I've never really tried, or I stopped trying, or something like that. I can't be sure. I can't be sure of anything anymore."

"Well, isn't now a good time to start trying again?" Glinda asked.

"It might be too late for me," Elphaba whispered. "I've lived like this for so long it's become habit, routine, and I don't know if I can change."

"You could try."

"How many times have I tried and how many times have I failed? I'd rather live like this for the rest of my life, however long I have left to live, then face failing once again."

Glinda stayed silent and simply squeezed Elphaba's hand in reassurance. Elphaba stared at the ground and Glinda watched Elphaba carefully. "One day you're going to kill yourself doing this," the blonde said.

"I know."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

Elphaba shrugged slightly. "Yes," she replied. "At least, I think it does."

"How can you not know?"

Elphaba did not respond. Glinda brought her hand up, the one not holding Elphaba's hand, and lightly took a hold of a green chin, turned Elphaba's head to face her. "I know you love Fiyero," Glinda said quietly as her eyes began to fill with tears she tried not to spill. "And I know you feel betrayed by both of us for our relationship together but if we had known that you were still alive… if we… well… I wish things were different. But with Mirelle in the picture it's hard to… well… I don't really know what I'm trying to say."

"I'm not going to have an affair with him," Elphaba said and her voice shook as she spoke. "What happened yesterday was wrong and I don't know why I did it, or why I caved. I should have been stronger but sometimes I just… sometimes I remember how _alive_ I felt with him, how _happy_ I was, and I just wanted that back – even if for a moment. But when it happened I didn't have that feeling I only felt… dirty in a way. You know, for betraying you. For… hurting you. I didn't mean to hurt you and I shouldn't have been so selfish." She closed her eyes then and Glinda used her thumb to wipe away the tears that had collected on Elphaba's eyelashes so that they would not fall and burn her green skin.

"I don't want you to feel alone and abandoned for the rest of your life. I want you to… well… there's this… and I have a thought… it's just… that… well… I don't know if you'll approve of it."

Elphaba opened her eyes and looked at Glinda in honest confusion. "What is it?"

"We could both have him."

"_What?_" Elphaba's eyes widened in shock and a little bit of horror. "What is the meaning of teasing me like this?" she snapped out.

"I'm not teasing you," Glinda said. "I'm being completely serious."

"You want us _both_ to have him? That doesn't make any sense!"

"Yes it does," Glinda tried to explain herself. "I know it's unconventional and others might not understand but we could share him. We both love him and he loves us both. It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"I cannot live my life with only half of him!" Elphaba jerked away from Glinda and stood up, began to pace. "To only have part of his love would be more painful than none! And what does he get, two wives? That hardly seems fair that he gets all of our love, from both of us, and we only get half of his!"

"But would it not bring you a measure of happiness?"

"And what does Fiyero have to say on the matter!"

Glinda stood up but kept her distance from her distraught friend. "I don't know," she replied. "I haven't asked him."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Elphaba muttered, more to herself then to Glinda. "After all, in the end he is entirely male, to have two wives would entertain his energies at night more than just one ever could."

"This isn't about sex!"

Elphaba stopped her pacing and turned to lay flashing eyes on Glinda. "Everything about males comes down to sex! It always does! Don't you understand? The only reason he still stays with you is because of Mirelle – who was a product of sex – and nothing more! He loves me more than he has ever loved you! You must know that! Somewhere in that pretty blonde-haired head of yours you _must_ have come to that realization!"

Glinda struck her. It was not a backhand, it was not a slap, it was a full fledge punch that struck Elphaba squarely in the nose and caused the green woman to stumble backwards. She caught herself on the bedpost and just barely managed to stay standing as she felt the blood begin to pour from her nose – which she feared had been broken. She let go of the bedpost and brought her hand up to feel the blood that came from her nose and frowned. She was angry but she doubted her anger matched the fury she felt radiating from Glinda who was standing before her. The blonde's body was practically trembling with the force of her anger.

"Just because you have been abused, raped, and used does not mean that every person in the world is out to hurt you!" Glinda shrieked. "And who are you, the one who has lived alone for so very long, to claim to know where Fiyero's heart truly lies!"

"Get out," Elphaba said, her voice low and laced with her own anger. "Get out before I strangle the life out of you like you deserve you manipulating little bitch!"

"At least I'm not the slut! At least I'm not the whore who's all too willing to have sex to get what she needs! Well the fact is you cannot buy Fiyero's love through your frail, starving body! If you're going to sell yourself at least eat a little and get some breasts for Oz's sake! You're practically a man the way you are right now!"

Elphaba lunged at Glinda; slapped her and her nails caught the skin on Glinda's pale cheek, left a few red lines of blood across her face. Glinda shrieked and grabbed Elphaba's hair, yanked it. The black hair was ripped from Elphaba's head in large clumps with ease as the green woman's malnutrition had already left her hair in poor condition. Elphaba screamed and as their anger overwhelmed them their fight only escalated. The blood that poured from Elphaba's nose stained her skin and clothes as well as Glinda's. They became a tangled mess of green and milky white skin as they struck each other, bit each other, ripped at hair, and tore clothing. They screamed profanities and insults that they did not truly mean but could not help but yell.

Their fight was broken apart by Fiyero; who had come to them upon hearing their shrill voices from the playroom down the hall where he had been with Mirelle. He wrapped his arms around Glinda's waist and pulled the blonde away from the Elphaba. For all her stature and height Elphaba had, in the end, been far too weak in her frail state to defend against Glinda's anger and the blonde had managed to garner the upper hand. But Fiyero put an end to their fight by pulling Glinda away and then standing in-between the two panting and furious woman. They looked like frantic animals with their clothes torn, the blood staining their skin, and their hair matted and wild. Clumps of hair, torn from Elphaba's head by Glinda, scattered the floor along with the blood that had come from Elphaba's nose and the scratches their nails had cut into each other's skin.

"What is the meaning of this?" Fiyero asked and Elphaba noticed almost instantly that he smelled of alcohol. Had he been drinking away the night? Elphaba did not know for certain but the glazed look in his eyes and the redness that stained them along with the smell of alcohol on his breath were the tell-tale signs that Elphaba knew all too well.

_After all_, Elphaba thought. _It takes one to know one_.

"Why are you two fighting like this?" Fiyero questioned as he tried to get some sort of response out of the silent and angry women.

"Because Elphaba had the nerve to say that you love her more than me! And that the only reason you are choosing to stay with me is because of Mirelle!" Glinda screamed as she angrily pointed at Elphaba. "She's a bitch!"

"Just because you don't want to hear the truth doesn't make me a bitch!" Elphaba shrieked.

Fiyero pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath to try and calm himself and settle his racing thoughts. The alcohol had made his mind foggy and his concentration seemed to have fled him. "Look," he said. "No one needs to fight over this, okay? We don't need anyone getting injured. And why is your nose bleeding?"

Elphaba huffed and crossed her arms. "Glinda punched me!" she spat out.

"You're not an angel either! You hit me as well!"

"At least I didn't yank out your hair!"

"You pulled at my hair just as much as I pulled at yours! It's not _my_ fault that _your_ body is so starved that your hair comes out in clumps!"

"Stop this!" Fiyero suddenly shouted before taking another deep breath to keep his temper in check. "Look, screaming and hitting each other isn't going to solve anything. We all need to sit down and have a talk, a _real_ talk, and get this settled. Our situation is… odd, so to say, and we need to straighten it out before we all kill each other."

"I'm not talking to you while you're drunk like you are!" Elphaba screamed. "I have enough of a problem trying to make sense of everything with my own alcohol problems I don't need you piling yours on top of that!"

"I don't have an alcohol problem," Fiyero said.

"You're drunk right now!"

"I am not!"

"Yes you are! I'm not an idiot Fiyero! If anything _I_ am the one most capable of knowing such things as this! _You are drunk!_"

"Oh, shut-up Elphaba!" Glinda screamed. "Just because you're a drunk doesn't mean that you know everything about it! You shouldn't be trying to give life advice when you are hardly capable of keeping yourself alive!"

"I'm not trying –" Elphaba suddenly fell silent as she caught sight of something behind Fiyero. "Mirelle?" she whispered in shock. "Mirelle, what in Oz's name are you doing here?"

"Are you yelling over me?" Mirelle asked as the tears poured down her chubby face. "Is it my fault that everyone hates each other now?"

Once again it was Elphaba who first reacted. She strode forward and scooped Mirelle up; setting the child on her right hip and wrapping her arm around Mirelle's back to keep her steady. "It's not your fault," Elphaba said as she tried to keep her voice from shaking. "Okay? Remember that. No matter how much we argue with each other it is never your fault, okay? It's just that sometimes we don't always know how to best say what's on our minds so we end up getting mad at each other when we don't really mean to. Do you understand?"

Mirelle shook her head. "Everything was fine before you came," she blurted out as she still had not quite learned what was improper to say to people. "Elbaba, all this fighting is your fault then, isn't it?"

Elphaba was stunned into silence as she stared at the innocent child she held. "Is it?" Mirelle repeated and Glinda and Fiyero watched in expectation.

Elphaba hit the child; a backhand that struck the child across her left check and made Mirelle wail out in both physical and emotional pain. Fiyero and Glinda both shot forward but Fiyero was closer to the green woman and it was he who quickly grabbed Mirelle from Elphaba's hold and hugged her close to him. He rubbed soothing circles across his daughters back and she wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her head in his shoulder and cried.

Glinda stared at Elphaba, her eyes cold and full of malice. "Get out of here," she said and her voice trembled with the effort it was taking the blonde to not attack the green woman standing before her. "Get out of my sight before I hit you like you dare to hit my daughter!"

"If you could teach your daughter to mind her mouth I wouldn't have to hit her to keep her in line!" Elphaba shrieked.

"I'm not raising my daughter like you were raised because she is not going to grow up into the mess that you are! Now get out of here!"

"You cannot just cast me out of my own room!"

"This isn't even your house! If you're not careful I'll throw you out on the street and you can brave the fury of the people! Now go!"

Elphaba was shaking and furious but a small part of her mind was screaming at her to leave before she only made the situation even worse than it already was. But Elphaba did not heed her own warnings and she simply stared at Glinda in anger. "You wouldn't dare to throw me out," she hissed out. "You don't have the guts!"

Glinda lunged at Elphaba and they stumbled backwards and out of the room through the door that Fiyero had left opened. Glinda pinned Elphaba against the wall of the hallway and wrapped pale hands around a green neck, squeezed her throat. Elphaba's eyes went wide and she clawed at Glinda's hands with her one remaining hand but it was a useless attempt. Fiyero watched in horror from his room as he was far too shocked to make any attempt to stop his wife nor could he find it within himself to help Elphaba. He was just as angry at the green woman for hitting his child as Glinda was and he doubted that Glinda would truly hurt Elphaba.

A servant turned the corner of the hallway at that precise moment to lay eyes on the frightening scene of Glinda with her hands tightly wrapped around the Witch's neck. The servant dropped the sheets she was holding and screamed. The frightening noise sent the guards running in their direction and when they arrived they were also frozen in shock at the sight they saw. However, the guards gathered their bearings in mere moments and they lunged for the two woman. One guard grabbed Glinda and pried the blonde's hands from Elphaba's neck. The other one caught the green woman's body as she fell limp as soon as Glinda's hands were removed from her neck.

The guard helped Elphaba to the floor and the green woman rested her back against the wall and took in gasping breaths that made her chest heave in and out. Her vision was spinning and her head throbbed with the lack of oxygen in her system. She watched Glinda through blurred vision as the blonde stared at her in anger and the other guard was forced to keep his hands on the blonde's arms to prevent her from lunging at the Witch again.

"What is going on here?" the guard that was kneeling down beside the Witch asked.

"She hit Mirelle!" Glinda screamed as she pointed at Elphaba. "The bitch _hit_ my daughter!"

The guard turned horrified eyes towards the Witch. "You hit a child?" he asked in shock. Even knowing that the green woman was the Wicked Witch he still could not fathom that any adult would dare to hit a child, no matter the reason.

Elphaba used the wall to help her stand. "I don't see what the huge deal is!" she spat out. "My father hit me all the time to keep me in line! It never killed me!"

"You're not exactly the picture of the well-adjusted person either!"

"And it's not my fault you can't teach your child boundaries!"

"I'm not going to hit my daughter! And neither are you! Your father practically tortured you! There's no way I'm letting you turn my daughter into a little copy of you! You can't help your past but don't you see your turning into your father? Don't you see you're treating Mirelle the same way your father treated you?"

"Don't you dare accuse me of being like my father!"

"But you are! Can't you see it? Can't you!" Glinda tried to step forward but the guard kept the blonde held back.

"My father was a rapist!" Elphaba crossed the small space that separated her and Glinda and harshly shoved the blonde. "Don't you dare put me in the same category as him!"

The guard that had helped Elphaba to the floor grabbed the green woman's right arm but Elphaba hissed out in pain as his hand clamped around the wounds she had dug into her skin the night before. He let go immediately and she brought her arm to her chest and held it close to her. She closed her eyes and took in deep breaths as she tried to ignore the pain that now radiated through her arm; the pain that had suddenly brought her to her senses and made her realize how utterly foolish and immature both she and Glinda were acting towards each other.

"Elphie?" Glinda questioned in sudden concern as she saw the pain on the green woman's face; also coming to the realization of how ridiculous they were acting.

"Shove it," Elphaba muttered as she took a few step backwards until her back hit the wall again. She opened her eyes to look at Glinda and as she watched her blonde friend and heard Mirelle crying in her room with Fiyero holding her she could feel the regret bubbling inside of her. "Dear Oz," she whispered. "What have I done?" She closed her eyes again, rested the back of her head against the cool stone wall behind her. "I _have_ become my father," she said quietly. "I'm a monster just like him." She slid down the wall and folded her legs up to her chest, hugged them there, and buried her head in her knees.

She cried.

Glinda looked horrified as Elphaba desperately tried to choke back her sobs and hold back her tears but failed. "Elphie?" Glinda whispered as she pulled herself free of the shocked guards grasp and kneeled down in front of the green woman. "Elphie… please… look at you, look at me, look at us all. What have we become? Why have we fallen this far in our friendships?"

Elphaba raised her head to look at Glinda and the blonde grimaced as she saw the burning tears trailing down her friend's face. "Because love is wicked," Elphaba spat out. "Love turns everyone into selfish bitches. And… and love isn't for me. I'm not destined for such a thing." She turned her head to stare down the hall at the pile of bedding that the servant had dropped earlier and never came back to pick up. "I should never have come here," Elphaba whispered. "Mirelle was right… I am the cause of our fighting. I am the cause of this disaster."

Glinda put her hand underneath Elphaba's chin and turned the green woman's face towards her, made Elphaba look at her. Glinda saw the blood that had dried on Elphaba's face from the broken nose that the blonde had given her and she suddenly felt horrible about her own actions. "I'm sorry," Glinda blurted out. "I'm so sorry!"

Elphaba shook her head. "Don't be," she said. "I was the wrong one. I _am_ the wrong one." She forced herself to stand up then but did not bother to wipe the burning tears from her face; she did not have the energy for such a thing. "I'm going to go now," she said quietly, "and find some time alone to think things through."

"Elphie… please… don't do anything rash, okay? Can you promise me that?"

Elphaba dragged her hand across the wall as she walked down the hallway. "I can't promise you anything," she said; speaking so quietly that Glinda could barely even hear the words that she was speaking. "For if my life is destined to turn me into the monster my father was then that is no life I wish to lead, no matter what."


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight

_Elphaba dragged her hand across the wall as she walked down the hallway. "I can't promise you anything," she said; speaking so quietly that Glinda could barely even hear the words that she was speaking. "For if my life is destined to turn me into the monster my father was then that is no life I wish to lead, no matter what."_

--

**Chapter Twenty-Eight:**

The men of the Emerald City could not get over their shock at seeing the Wicked Witch of the West sitting in the dingy bar beside them. She was still going strong even as the hour turned to three in the morning and the official closing time of the bar had long since passed them by. She drank with the best of them and kept her own. Her eyes were blood-shot, her hand trembled, and her body stank of alcohol but she continued to down glass after glass of whiskey. She spoke no words and answered no questions that were posed towards her.

She had not bothered to change and so her thin nightgown was all she wore and with its sleeveless cut the scars, and fresh wounds, on her arms were clearly visibly on her green skin. The blood that had dried on her face from her broken nose was still there as she had not had the energy to clean it off. Her hair was a tangled mess of knots and missing clumps from Glinda's attack on it. And the scratches on her face and arms from Glinda's nails were still red with irritation and dry blood. She was a disaster to look at but she did not care.

She had _hit_ Mirelle.

The bitter truth of what she had done, and how much it reflected her father, made her sick inside. She truly was a monster. She truly had been brainwashed by her father. It was not the screaming and yelling that she had shared with Glinda and Fiyero that made her heart ache but the violence she had shown towards an innocent child. Glinda and Fiyero were adults, they could handle her anger and bitter words, but Mirelle was just a child and had no ability to understand or cope when such violence was acted upon her. Elphaba knew that because she had _lived_ that. She knew how frightened and unsure Mirelle would be feeling at this exact moment because _she_ had felt it as a child. She knew how Mirelle would doubt the adults around her and would find it difficult to trust in them again because _she_ had.

It made her hate herself more than she ever thought imaginable. She didn't understand how she could do such a thing; how she could sink so low. She had done horrors before; she had killed and been the cause of killing, she had hurt and been hurt, but never in her life did she ever think she would strike a child. She knew the pain it caused and the scar it left on the child's heart and soul but yet she had still done it. For that split second she had become her father – and that terrified her.

So she drank away the pain because it was easier then facing the truth. She didn't want to believe that her father had so deeply affected her, had so deeply ingrained himself in her, that she chose to drink until her thoughts were so disconnected and muddled that she could not even talk. She drank until her vision was so blurry that she could not see. She drank until she was so intoxicated that she could not stand nor feel nor remember.

She was just there. The only thing she could focus on was not falling off her stool and making sure that the drink she held actually made it to her mouth. The barman watched her as she continued to drink and continued to fish for money in a hidden, inner pocket of her nightgown. Eventually, when the clock crept close to four in the morning, the Witch ran out of money and the glass of whiskey she held was the last she was going to get.

"You know it was closing time nearly three hours ago," the barman said.

"Shove it," Elphaba spat out as best as she could.

"How are you getting back to the palace?"

"Who says I go back to palace?" Elphaba replied, her words fragmented and slurred. She took a swig from her glass.

"If you don't you're only going to end up getting raped in the streets."

Elphaba took another gulp from her drink. "Wouldn't be the first time," she said harshly, "and wouldn't be the last either."

The barman was shocked into silence. "Truly?"

"No reason to lie," Elphaba muttered. "Can a drunk even lie?" she questioned, more to herself than to anyone else around her. "I wonder."

"A question for the philosophers," the barman answered with a shrug. "Not for me, I'm simply just a barman."

"I knew a great barman once," Elphaba whispered. "Saved me from myself. Wish he was still here."

"Died?"

Elphaba shrugged. "Don't know. Was sick, left before he died. I can only assume so."

"His name?"

"Garivon."

The barman frowned. "Don't recognize the name, sorry."

"More things to be sorry for then a lost friend."

"Good friends are hard to come by."

"I know."

"I'm sure you do."

"Would you rape me?" Elphaba raised blood-shot eyes to look at the barman standing across from her. "If you had the chance, would you?"

"You speak well for someone so drunk."

"Would you?"

"At my age now, no. A few years younger and the answer would probably be a yes."

"Most of the men that come to your bar probably have raped me."

"So the rumours say."

"The rumours are true."

"You have a loose tongue when drunk, don't you?"

"No." Elphaba sighed and dropped her gaze to the bartop again, stared at the glass she held in her shaking hand. "Just tired of hiding."

"I could imagine."

"I'm not as wicked as they say."

"That's up for argument."

"If you think I'm so wicked why do you let me drink at your bar?"

"It would be against the law to throw you out."

"So if you could you would throw me out?"

"If I could, and if I was brave enough, I would kill you. Your actions led to the death of my son."

"My _accused_ actions led to the death of your son," Elphaba snapped out. "Did you see me there? Did you see me do whatever you claimed I did?"

"No, but the Wizard –"

"The Wizard is a fucking lying bastard!" Elphaba slammed her glass on the bartop to add even more emphasis to her words. The barman and the few remaining men who had not yet left gasped at the Witch in shock.

One of the men near the Witch grabbed her right arm and she hissed as his hand touched her self-inflicted wounds. She ripped her arm from his grasp and brought it to her chest protectively where she finally revealed the nub that remained of her amputated hand – she had kept her mutilated hand hidden by burying it within the folds of her nightgown and using the shadows created by the ledge of the bartop to shield it away. The barman and the drunken men stared in shock and it took a few moments before Elphaba realized what they were gawking at.

She dropped her arm to her lap, hiding her missing hand beneath the ledge of the bartop once again. "Yes I have no hand!" she shrieked. "What does it matter to you!"

The bar fell silent and the barman sighed. "It's far passed closing time. I think you all should be heading on home now, even you Miss Wicked Witch."

"My name is El… Elphaba!"

"Whatever it is, it's time to go."

"I highly doubt I can walk out of here!"

"You were to one who decided to drink far more than your body weight in alcohol so you can deal with the consequences. Unless you wish for the help of one of the drunken, horny men left to assist you back to the palace."

"If they got drugs I'm willing for a trade."

The barman laughed. "Fighting words. Somehow, from what I've seen tonight, I'm not surprised that you dabble in the darker side of life."

"Dabble?" It was the Witch's turn to laugh. "I wish all I did was dabble."

A man approached the Witch then, leaned close to her ear, and waved a small bag in front of her face. "I'll take you up on your offer," he whispered.

Elphaba let him take her by the hand and lead her from the bar. The barman watched in silence – he almost felt a little pity for the green Witch. Elphaba was so inebriated that the man that held her hand was forced to almost carry her out of the bar as she could hardly walk and kept stumbling over her own feet. He took her behind the bar, threw her to the ground, and pinned her against the dirty street. She was shocked that he could even get himself into her for how drunk he was but he managed. Elphaba closed her eyes and tried to will herself away to some other place, to a happier place, but there was no happier place that she could remember to go to. Even the Emerald City and her affair with Fiyero could not bring her happiness anymore – only bittersweet memories of a happiness she would never again attain.

When the man was done he pulled out from her and dropped the bag of drugs on her bare stomach for her dress was crumpled up to her chest. Elphaba waited until she could no longer hear his stumbling footsteps before bringing her hand up to wrap long fingers around the small bag. She sat up, her dress falling down to cover her partially, and stared at the bag held in her shaking hands.

She poured the contents onto the stained bricks of the alleyway and lined the white powder up into as straight of rows as she could manage with her swimming vision and trembling hand. She brought her head down to the level of the street and inhaled through her nose until all the white powder was gone.

The world spun. The shadows seemed to come to life and dance around her. Her broken nose ached with the drugs it had been forced to inhale and the blood seemed to pour from it like the raging waters of Suicide Canal. She struggled to stand and as she walked she did not know where she was going or why she was even walking. Her feet tripped over themselves and more times than once she fell to the hard ground. Her knees became bruised and bloody by the force of her falls but she continued to get up every time she tripped. She felt that she needed to do _something_, she just didn't know what. So she kept walking a swerving, stumbling path down streets she could not recognize. The night sounds that surrounded her seemed echoing and far too loud – they made her head ache. She felt light-headed and… free, in a way. It was like she was flying on her broom again, only instead she was simply just walking.

Morning started to creep onto Oz. The sunlight started to shine its faint light on the buildings and streets and Elphaba squinted and raised her hand to her eyes to try and shield herself from the light. It did not work.

She continued to walk but what she did not realize was that she was only walking further and further from the palace. Her vision still spun, her head still ached, but she could not remember what had made her so despairing in the first place which made her slightly happy because that had been the goal, hadn't it?

As the morning continued to develop the people of the Emerald City began to leave their homes and begin their daily routines. Those that saw the Witch did a double take and even seemed a little concerned to see her like she was. Her clothes were crumpled from the man and torn from her fight with Glinda. She walked in a swerving line and stunk of alcohol. Her eyes were blood-shot and unfocused and blood still dribbled from her nose.

She tripped over a loose brick on the road and fell to her knees. She stayed there, in the middle of the street, and suddenly felt so incredibly tired. She wanted to stand up again, to keep walking, but she could not find the strength to do such a thing. So she stayed on the ground and stared at her trembling hand.

Someone kneeled down in front of her, an older lady, and laid her hand on top of Elphaba's but the green woman jerked away from the touch. "Leave me!" she spat out but the older lady did not.

"Are you well dearie?"

Elphaba raised her eyes to look at the lady and to her surprise she did not flinch away at the sight of Elphaba's stained green skin. "What do you think?" Elphaba shrieked. "Tell me! What do _you_ think!"

The older lady, who was smartly dressed and wore far too much make-up, looked taken aback slightly. "Well then, if you do not want my help then I shall leave you as you are to block the streets."

Elphaba watched as the lady stood up then and left. The Witch stared at the growing crowds around her for quite some time until someone literally walked right into her and knocked her to the ground. She moaned and struggled to sit up when someone grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. Elphaba raised tired eyes to place who it was to find that it was an Official. She shrieked, remembering only Letozay in her inebriated state, and tried to pull away but he would not let her go.

"I don't mean to harm you," the Official said and Elphaba could hear the caring in his voice – she just wasn't sure if what she heard was truthful or not. "But you are clearly drunk and it is against the law to be drunk in public. If you do not resist I will take you to the station and send for Lady Glinda the Good if you wish."

"And if I resist?"

"I'd rather not say what could happen. But please, Miss Elphaba, I do not wish to harm you if I do not have to."

_Miss Elphaba. _Elphaba was shocked that he had called her by her birthname and not the Wicked title that the Wizard had labeled her as. It stunned her into silence and all she could do was nod at the Official. He smiled at her and seemed relieved to not have to force her into anything. He was young, Elphaba noticed, and perhaps that was the reason behind his hesitation in harming her.

But for all his calm words and caring attitude terror coursed through Elphaba as he tried to lead her away from the street. She shrieked nonsense and ripped her arm free of his grasp. He frowned. "Don't do this," he said.

_He is a man, _Elphaba's mind screamed at her. _He cannot be trusted!_

She fled. She ran as fast as her weak and drug-filled body could. She heard him blow into his whistle to alert the other Officials near that he was pursuing someone. There were answering whistles and Elphaba tried her best to duck her way through the crowds but the people did their civil duty and pointed out her fleeing form as best as they could to the group of Officials that were converging on her.

They caught her with ease in a few minutes. The first one grabbed her wrist, yanked her backwards and she stumbled from the sudden change in her momentum. The next one grabbed her right arm and yanked it behind her back. They moved to cuff her but upon seeing that she was missing a hand they quickly realized that their cuffs would be useless. So the Official that had caught her threw her to the ground, dug his knee into her lower back, and tangled his hand in her hair – forced her head down on the cold, dirty street. She gasped in pain and tried to catch her breath but the full body weight of the Official was pressed down on her back and made it difficult for her to breathe.

As the Officials surrounded her she was hoisted to her feet and dragged through the crowded streets in a daze. The people parted for the Witch and the crowd of Officials around her as they made their way to the station. As she was pulled along she turned her head to look at the crowds of people watching in both shock and amusement to find herself staring directly at a journalist of some sort. The journalist quickly pulled out her camera and pointed it at the Witch and Elphaba gave her a hard, cold glare as she snapped a picture that the green woman was sure would be on the front of the newspapers tomorrow morning.

She was taken inside of a building, roughly pulled down a hallway, and then thrown into a large cell with the men who had been taken into custody earlier in the day for the same reason that Elphaba was now in custody – public lewdness. She stumbled as she was thrown and fell to her knees. The cell door was shut and locked and Elphaba spun around, forced herself to stand, and stumbled towards the bars surrounding her, wrapped her only hand around the cold metal, and stared at the Official that had thrown her in there.

"I demand to be released!" Elphaba shrieked. "I am the Wicked Witch! I am Glinda the Good's friend! Release me!"

The Official laughed. "From what I've heard your friendship with Glinda the Good is no longer. Fighting over Fiyero, hitting her child, your habit of drinking far too much – it's all taken its toll on poor Glinda and she is near her breaking point. She isn't going to come to save you this time. You're on your own Miss _Elphaba_."

Elphaba was shocked. "How do you know?" she questioned. "How did you even –"

"Do you think the palace guards and servants keep their tongue?" the Official interrupted. "Of course they don't. They spill the juicy gossip to anyone that will listen. And violent fights and child abuse is gossip that is spread incredibly quickly."

"It was not child abuse!"

"Whatever you say," the Official said with a shrug. "Enjoy your time behind bars."

"Wait!" Elphaba screamed as the Official turned to leave. "How… how long do I have to stay here?"

"Until you are sober enough to join society again."

"And how do you decide that?"

The Official chuckled. "However we want. Like I said, enjoy your time here."

Elphaba shuddered; she didn't like the tone of his voice as he had spoken his last words. He was soon gone though and the only person who remained besides the drunken men in the cell with her was a young guard sitting behind a desk at the far side of the room.

That's when Elphaba noticed something that made her breath catch in her throat. On the other side of the rather large room was another cell, identical to the one she was in, only in that cell there were only women. She turned around slowly to find that the cell she was in was filled with only drunken, stumbling, blubbering men.

She realized, to her utter horror, that she had been put in the men's cell on purpose.


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine

_She realized, to her utter horror, that she had been put in the men's cell on purpose._

--

**Chapter Twenty-Nine:**

Elphaba was not deemed sober enough to rejoin society for two whole days. The withdrawals from the drugs she had taken had been devastating and had forced her to curl up in the fetal position and clutch her stomach. She had been desperate to stem the nausea attacking her but it had been useless and no matter what she did she continued to expel stomach acid and bile for there was no food in her stomach to escape. Her throat burned and the tears stung at her eyes but in time the violent upheavals became only dry heaves and then eventually stopped all together.

Her vision spun. Her head throbbed. Her ears rang. Her nose ached. She cried out when the drunken men in the cell moved to use her, to rape her, but the guard paid no attention to her screams for help. She managed to fight the majority of the men off of her for they were all too drunk to put much effort into getting inside of her but a few managed. She bit and clawed and screamed at them but those few men got the prize they had been so desperate to attain.

And the women in the cell across the room watched in both pity and despair. The majority of them had been taken into custody for their work as prostitutes and they recognized the scars on Elphaba's thighs when they caught sight of them the few times the men managed to get her thin nightgown pulled up and themselves inside of her. They knew what the scars meant – they knew that Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, had indeed been a whore like the rumours said.

When the guards finally let Elphaba go free – nearly a day and a half after she had actually become sober enough to enter society again – the Witch had built her cold, protective walls up around herself again. She kept her arms wrapped around herself as she trudged the long path through the Emerald City to get back to the palace; she had been completely unaware how far she had traveled away from the palace until then. When she reached the gates the guards opened them for her without question and she walked up the stones steps, pushed the large doors open, and entered to silence.

There were no guards around. There were no servants around. There was no Glinda, or Fiyero, or little Mirelle. There was only silence.

Just silence.

Elphaba was confused and frightened and she slowly walked down the hallway. As she passed Fiyero's study she saw a newspaper on the floor; it had been blown from the desk when a gust of wind had come in through the opened window. Elphaba entered the study, knelt down by the paper, and turned it over.

It was yesterday's paper and the front page story was her. It was the picture the journalist had taken when she was being dragged to the station by the Officials. Elphaba was stunned by how cold and hard her eyes looked even in the grainy, black and white photo. Above her picture ran a headline in large, bold printing that read: _Elphaba Thropp – A Reformed Witch Or Wickedness In Hiding?_

She scanned the article to find that the majority of it spoke of her alcohol and drug abuse. Of her past sexual activities. Of striking Mirelle. There was even a brief mention of her childhood life, of the father that had so cruelly abused her. She was shocked by how much of it was the truth and she had no idea where the journalist who had written the article had gotten her information from. It was obvious, however, that the person had many connections throughout Oz and knew how to dig up dirt on people.

Elphaba was stunned and she threw the newspaper to the ground in anger. She stood up then; stormed from the study. She made her way down the hallway and entered her room to find that it had been thoroughly cleaned – even the bedding had been changed. She sat herself down on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall. She felt empty inside; cold and bitter and utterly empty. She had no desire to do anything. She did not want to scream, or drink, or cry, or hurt herself in any way. She simply wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.

But she knew that she would never achieve such a thing.

A servant entered the room with an armful of pillows and looked shocked at seeing Elphaba sitting on her bed. "Beggin' my pardon," she quickly blurted out. "I was not aware you had returned Miss Elphaba. I'm so very sorry I did not knock."

Elphaba turned her head to lay hollow eyes on the servant. She studied her for a moment before returning her gaze to the wall and making no indication that she had even heard what the servant had said. The servant was stunned by the Witch's cold demeanor but she quickly regained her composure and moved towards the bed, set the pillows in their place near the headboard, then left as quickly as she could.

When the servant was gone and the door shut behind her Elphaba stood up. She walked towards the wall she had been staring at and stood before it.

Her fist imbedded into the wall in one jerky, angry movement. The sound of splintering wood echoed in Elphaba's ears and made her smile. She rested her forehead on the wall beside the hole she had created as her fist remained inside the wall. She didn't know how long she stood there and she did not care but in time she forced herself to pull her hand free and push herself away from the wall. Her hand was decorated with multiple cuts, some deeper than others, from the splintering wood and the blood spilt from the wounds – collected in a tiny puddle on the floor. She watched it for a few long minutes before her head started to ache from the blood loss and she stumbled towards her bed; sat back down.

There was a knock at her door but Elphaba did not answer to the sound. After a moment of silence the door was pushed opened and Elphaba raised her head to look at Glinda. "Why am I back where I started?" she whispered.

Glinda was startled by the emptiness in Elphaba's eyes and her concerned showed on her face. "Where have you been?" the blonde asked quietly. "We were worried."

"At the station," Elphaba said and her voice was flat and cold. "The Officials picked me up for public lewdness." She shrugged. "I was drunk and high, how was I supposed to argue with them?"

Glinda looked disappointed and Elphaba dropped her gaze to the floor so she wouldn't have to see the painful emotions playing on her friend's face. "You didn't… you wouldn't… you did drugs again?"

Elphaba nodded. "You should do an inquiry into your Officials and the way they implement the laws."

"Did they hurt you?"

"Not them," Elphaba whispered, "but they put me in the cell with the men, not the one meant for the women. I'm sure I don't have to explain to you why."

"Oh," Glinda said. It was the only word she could force passed the lump in her throat.

"I'm tired Glinda. I'm so very tired of it all."

"I know."

"I'm going to do it."

"Do what?" Glinda asked but she had a feeling she knew what Elphaba's answer would be and she could feel the grief and despair bubbling up inside of her.

"Kill myself."

Glinda crossed the room and sat down besides Elphaba. Took the green woman's wounded hand in her own and held it gently. "Don't," she said, pleaded. "Please."

"Why do you care?" Elphaba spat out. "I have ruined your life! I have caused Fiyero to doubt his love for you! And I have hit your child!"

"Those were outcomes you couldn't foresee and mistakes you regret. It is not any reason to end your life, can't you see that?"

"It hurts too much," Elphaba whispered; her voice suddenly quiet and trembling. "Everything. All the memories, all the hurt done to me, I can't forget. I… I just cannot heal."

"Some hurt will never heal Elphie. You just need to come to terms with it, to accept it."

Elphaba snapped her head up to stare at Glinda in anger. "What do you know about it!" she shrieked.

"Have you forgotten that I have been hurt? Did you think I simply just _got over_ that time at Shiz when that man took us, when he made you touch me? Do you think I don't remember the feeling of your hands on my body or the way they shook when you held my breasts, when they dipped between my thighs? Do you think I don't wake up screaming from nightmares that those memories still consume me with? I will admit that nothing I have gone through will ever be as horrible as what you have endured but my memories haunt me just the same as yours."

Elphaba's eyes widened, her mouth opened, and she looked at Glinda in shock. _She _had forgotten of that horrible time. _She _had pushed it from her mind and let her other memories overtake it. But Glinda had remembered, Glinda still remembered, Glinda was haunted by it. For the blonde it was one of the worst time in her lives for Elphaba it mattered little now – what she had done to her friend was miniscule compared to what had been done to her.

"I remember how angry I was at you for letting him control you like that," Glinda continued; not fazed by Elphaba's reaction, "for letting him make you touch me. I remember how I so desperately tried to hide my anger from you so you would not feel even more guilty than you did. And I remember how bitter I was that you had not been able to control your magick… that you had waited as long as you did before you let your magick save us. I was bitter and angry but I tried desperately to help you instead of helping myself."

"Glinda… I… you… I –"

"What happened to you was done by people you did not know. You were raped by men you would never see again. I was molested by my best friend. There's a difference Elphie, a _huge_ difference."

Elphaba sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap. "My father abused me," she whispered. "My father beat me and burnt me and raped me."

"Frex did that, not your father. Frex was never your father and you know that. He never loved you, he never cared for you, so in truth he never _really_ betrayed you. But you… oh, Elphie… you don't understand how much what happened scarred me. You just… you never can because you've never been molested by someone who loved you, who cared for you!"

Elphaba pulled her hand from Glinda's grasp, stood up to lay cold eyes on the blonde. "And you were not raped by hundreds of men! You were not kept against your will for over two years and used as a whore! You were never scarred on the thighs! You were never marked for the slut you were! You were never driven to prostitution to survive! You had everything handed to you on a silver platter simply because you went along with the Wizard's lies! You have no backbone, no strength, to stand up for what is right!"

Glinda stayed sitting on Elphaba's bed, looking up at the angry green woman before her, and did not reply. As far as Glinda was concerned they had had their fight three days previous. They had clawed and bit and drew blood. They had screamed and yelled and said words they regretted. They had expelled their anger at each other and violent fights would no longer get them anywhere. Glinda was prepared to sit in silence and bear Elphaba's screaming rants for as long as necessary for she knew that now all her green friend needed was someone to vent on before her pain overwhelmed her and she simply ended her life – as she had threatened to do.

"Do you have no reply?" Elphaba shrieked. "No defense? Are you just going to sit there and say nothing? Are you not going to defend yourself at all? Are you really just weak and useless and all-too-willing to grovel to people above you to get what you want? You are a leech on society! You attach yourself to people stronger than you and feed off of them!"

"Are you done yet?" Glinda asked in the silence that followed.

Elphaba glared at her. "No! You are weak! You are sniveling and useless and… and weak! You would never have been able to endure my life! You cannot even fathom the horrors I've seen and the horrors done upon me!"

"I do not doubt that."

"Why are you being so calm! Why aren't you angry! Yell at me! Scream at me! Hit me! Do something!"

"I'm not going to hit you," Glinda said as she kept her voice as level and as calm as she could.

"Why not!" Elphaba screamed. "I deserve it!"

"No one deserves such a thing."

"Does my father? Does Avaric? Does Letozay? Do the guards in the Southstairs? Do _they_ Glinda? Tell me! Do they, who have hurt me so terribly, do they deserve it!"

"Yes."

"And I have hurt you just the same! I deserve it just as they do! Hit me!"

"I don't like this," Glinda whispered; she sounded afraid. "I don't like this begging to be struck."

"Then just hit me and I'll stop! I am a monster Glinda! I am disaster and chaos and failure! I am the wickedness of this world! Don't you see? No matter what I do it ends in pain and destruction! I am evil Glinda! I am evil and I have hurt you and I must be punished! Hit me! Damn it Glinda! Just fucking hit me!"

Silence. Glinda looked at Elphaba and Elphaba felt her anger and fury disappearing by the lack of response that she was getting from the blonde.

"Are you done now?" Glinda asked quietly.

Elphaba nodded. She let out a heavy sigh and sat back down beside Glinda. The silence stretched on for minutes beyond count but eventually a quiet, "Thank you," was muttered by Elphaba, "for… for not getting angry."

"I figured you just needed to vent a little. It's okay Elphie, we all need to sometimes."

"I'm sorry."

Glinda took Elphaba's hand in her own. "It's okay. I'm sorry too, for hitting you before. What you said about Fiyero was true, he loves you more than me. And I… I don't want to lose you Elphie."

"What are you getting at?"

"You two should be together."

"I don't want to destroy your perfect life."

"It's not perfect."

Elphaba frowned and stared at the wall to collect her thoughts. "Maybe we could try," she whispered; more to herself than to Glinda.

"Try what?"

"Your idea. What you suggested before about… you know… sharing him."

"Truly?"

"There's no harm in trying as long as we promise each other that no matter what we won't let our love for him tear us apart, not anymore. Okay?" Elphaba looked at Glinda then. "Please… let our love for each other and our love for him be completely separate. Do you think you can do that?"

"Do you?"

Elphaba nodded. "I've always kept my love for him separated from you. I had to, because I could never have him before."

"And I will try."

"And if it does not work then he is yours," Elphaba said but her voice was choked with the prospect of finally losing her dear Fiyero. "For you have a child with him and that… that trumps any love I could offer him."


	31. Chapter Thirty

**_Author's Note: _**_This chapter did not originally exist but a reader left a review on my last chapter that went along the lines of "Shouldn't they talk to Fiyero about this?" and then I thought,"What _would _Fiyero think if they talked to him about it?", and thus, this chapter was born. Hope you enjoy!_

--

_"And if it does not work then he is yours," Elphaba said but her voice was choked with the prospect of finally losing her dear Fiyero. "For you have a child with him and that… that trumps any love I could offer him."_

--

**Chapter Thirty:**

"You want to do _what_?"

Glinda was unfazed by Fiyero's shocked shriek and replied with a calm, "Share you."

Fiyero sat down on the bench nearby. He was in the garden behind the palace, they all were, and he had been enjoying his pleasant and quiet day until now. "And you made this decision without thinking to discuss it with me?" he snapped out.

"We _are_ discussing it with you," Elphaba cut in from where she stood a few feet away, her hand resting against the trunk of an apple tree, "right now."

"A little late, isn't it?"

"What do you have a problem with?" Elphaba asked, her voice harsher than she intended. "We're the ones who get the shit end of the deal. We only get half of your love, you get all of ours, both of ours."

"It isn't right!"

"I never thought you to be one so worried about the gray line between right and wrong." Elphaba's voice was dripping with sarcasm now. "Or are affairs considered moral in the Vinkus?" It was clear that she spoke of their time spent together in the old room above the abandon corn exchange; when they had still be young, and somewhat naïve, and desperate to find their fairy tale endings.

"This isn't the same!" Fiyero stood up again, approached Elphaba furiously. "If I did this I'd feel like… like I was cheating on both of you! At the same time! It would just be… be… well I don't know what it would be! But it wouldn't _feel_ right! That I know!"

"How do you know that?" Glinda asked and her quiet voice was a stark contrast to Fiyero and Elphaba's loud, angry voices. "You've never tried it."

"This isn't like some new food Glinda! This isn't like just trying out a new gun within the forces or something like that! This is love! This is emotions and feelings and… and broken hearts!"

"You're afraid of hurting me," Elphaba whispered as she finally understood why Fiyero was so opposed to the idea of having them both. "You're afraid it won't work out and that in the end you'll only break my heart."

Fiyero's anger faded away as Elphaba had struck the truth. "Yes," he replied, his voice unnaturally quiet, as he sat back down on the bench.

Elphaba crossed the few feet between them and sat down beside him. She took his hand in her own and squeezed it reassuringly. "My heart's already broken, shattered even," she said; trying to explain the swirling, painful emotions within her that she did not even truly comprehend. "I fear this might be the only thing that will help. And if it does not work then do not freight, you won't be able to break my heart further. This was Glinda's idea to begin with and I only agreed with it on the promise that if this becomes too messy, too complicated, then I will be the one to pull out for there is Mirelle to consider and she belongs to both of you. She needs you both together. And if I can fit into the puzzle that is your love without unbalancing everything then isn't that worth a try? To make everyone happy, shouldn't we at least try? Nothing worse can come of my feelings if this doesn't turn out to be the right decision so what do we have to lose?"

"Everything," Fiyero spat out.

"Nothing," Elphaba countered. "I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. For me it is an easy decision and I understand that for you and Glinda it is harder. I don't want to push this on you, and neither does Glinda, but it is an option. And is it not better for us to share you than for you and I to live together knowing that at any time we may falter in our conviction and be intimate? It's not fair to Glinda to go behind her back. If we're all together then everything is out in the open. Is that not for the best? Is that not the most honest and moral thing we can do?"

"But it just isn't right!"

"And when has anything that has been associated with me right?" Elphaba asked, and though her voice was harsh her intentions were not unkind. "You knew from the moment you chose to become my friend, back when I was just the green freak from Shiz, that things would not be normal with me. For how can anything I do be normal when I am the aberration of normal?"

Fiyero sighed and let his gaze fall on Elphaba's hand as she held his own; staring at her long green fingers and boney thinness. The silence stretched on for minutes, nearly twenty, before Fiyero finally spoke.

"Perhaps it is worth a try," he whispered but it was clear that he feared the complications that such a strange, three-way relationship could bring forth.

"I'm glad," Elphaba said and she looked up at Glinda, smiled at the blonde. "I'm glad for being given this chance, this one last chance, to find love again."

"I can't be your saviour," Fiyero said and Elphaba turned her head sharply to look at him in shock; her eyes wide in confusion and a slight amount of fear. "I'm doing this not because I approve," he continued, "but because I love you both. I'm desperate for it to work out but I know that it won't. Yet still, there is a hope in your eyes that I cannot deny. But I can't be your saviour, I can't heal your scars, and I refuse to be hurt by your own pain."

Elphaba's bottom lip trembled as tears of anger and betrayal throbbed behind her eyes and she desperately tried to keep them under control. "You will allow this strange relationship but you won't even consider helping me?" she shrieked. She let go of his hand and stood up, took a few shaking steps backwards.

Fiyero shot up off the bench and approached Elphaba, tried to calm her down. "No!" he said; sounding more frantic than he meant to. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Well what do you mean then?" she snapped out.

"I _want_ to help you," he clarified, "I just can't be the one to save you. No one can, no one but yourself."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Elphaba screamed. "Do you think, that after all these years, that I don't know that!"

"Elphaba… please… I didn't mean to upset you. I just… I didn't want you to go into this with higher expectations than I can fulfill."

"I'm not expecting anything from you!" she snapped out. "You don't have to do anything but love us!"

"And do you really believe I have enough love for both of you? Do you really believe this isn't going to end in disaster?"

"Yes!"

"Really?"

"Yes! And does it not seem odd that I'm the one who is holding onto the hope between us? Because if I'm holding onto false hope Fiyero then please, I beg of you, tell me! If you have already lost your love for me than tell me so that I don't have to get hurt again!"

"I haven't."

"Then why are you so against this? What has you so repulsed by this!"

"I don't want to hurt either of you!" Fiyero screamed; finally snapping and unable to hold back his fears from them. "I don't want to be the one to break anyone's heart! I couldn't take it! I cannot be that man!"

Elphaba's anger faded at the despair and worry in Fiyero's voice. She took his hand in her own. "It's going to be fine," she said; echoing words that Fiyero and Glinda had often told her. "And I know that's hard to believe right now but what is there to lose? Please Fiyero, just give this a chance. For all of us, please." She knew she was begging and she cursed herself for the whining tone she had allowed to enter her voice but she couldn't stop herself. She wanted this so much that it hurt. And she wanted him, desperately. She no longer cared if she could only have part of him; she wanted _something_ before she fell into insanity from her despair and loneliness. And with Glinda's blessing she couldn't bear to see her chance at love crumble away from her simply because Fiyero was too afraid of hurting them.

"But maybe," Fiyero said quietly, "maybe it wouldn't hurt to give it a chance. I mean, if you're okay with it, and you're the one who has been hurt the most out of all of us, then maybe I can look passed my own fears to give it a try. But I want it known that I don't mean to hurt anyone and if I do I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize in advance," Glinda said and Elphaba and Fiyero both looked at her in shock – they had forgotten she was even there. "It only makes it feel like this is going to fail," the blonde continued. "And if I have any say in the matter then it is not for Glinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands, does _not_ fail." She smiled then and they returned her smile with their own.

"Now, with that settled," Elphaba said with a small smile; trying her best to sound nonchalant and making it seem like the three friends had not just made a decision that would either further their relationships together or destroy any love they shared for each other, "shall we get some lunch?"


	32. Chapter Thirty One

**_Author's Note: _**_Sorry for the delay in updates but it was Easter weekend and this whole past week it just seemed that every time I sat down to write and edit this chapter something would happen to distract me or pull me away from it. But hopefully the fact that this chapter has grown to over 9,500 words will make up for it! ;-) So, enjoy! _

--

"Now, with that settled," Elphaba said with a small smile; trying her best to sound nonchalant and making it seem like the three friends had not just made a decision that would either further their relationships together or destroy any love they shared for each other, "shall we get some lunch?"

--

**Chapter Thirty-One:**

Oz did not approve. At first the people heard whispers of an affair between Fiyero of the Vinkus and Elphaba the Wicked Witch but Glinda put an end to such rumours. The blonde had stood upon her balcony, high above the crowds, and gave a public announcement stating that the relationship Fiyero shared with Elphaba was indeed one of a husband and wife, just the same as the relationship that Glinda shared with the dark-skinned Vinkus man. It shocked the crowds but Glinda did not let it bother her as she did her best to explain the strange and unconventional relationship that she and her best friend shared with Fiyero.

The best that it could be explained as was that Fiyero was the husband to two wives. So that is how Glinda explained it and that was how the public statement was left.

Mirelle was confused for awhile at the prospect of having two mothers. But she warmed to the idea as time went on and soon she began calling Glinda her 'mama' – as she always had – and Elphaba her 'mother'. It made Elphaba smile at the thought that perhaps she would be able to break the ever spinning cycle of abuse that her life had been with the small bundle of joyful life that Mirelle was.

The child herself had been terrified of Elphaba for the first week or so after the green woman had hit her but if children were anything it was resilient. Mirelle had hid behind Glinda's legs as Elphaba had apologized to the scared child but Elphaba had been determined to apologize for when she had been a child all she had ever wanted was for her father to say he was sorry when he had hit her; he never had. And so Elphaba had made sure she did, no matter how much Mirelle had wanted to run away from her, and it seemed to have worked for it was not long after that that the child had begun to let Elphaba be around her again – and eventually even play with her again.

Nearly a month later Elphaba was walking passed Glinda's room when she stopped suddenly; was that crying she was hearing? She studied the door in concern and debated whether she should enter or not. She decided to and raised her hand, knocked quietly.

A muffled, "Go away," came from within. Elphaba frowned in concern and tried the door to find that it was locked.

"Glinda, are you well?" she called through the door. There was no response. "Glinda, please, open the door. I can hear you crying, I know something is wrong." She sighed. "I'm not going to leave you alone until you open this door and let me in." She heard movement from within and then the lock sliding opened. Elphaba waited a few moments, to allow Glinda to compose herself, before opening the door. When she did she found her blonde friend sitting, cross-legged, on her bed and looking out the window, her back facing Elphaba.

"What's wrong?" Elphaba asked as she shut the door behind her and made her way to the bed; climbed onto it and sat down beside Glinda. She was concerned that her blonde friend wouldn't look at her. "Glinda?"

"It's nothing," Glinda said but her voice was choked and her shoulders shook. It was clear she was trying not to cry.

"It must be something if you're crying over it."

Glinda's shoulders slumped in defeat and she turned to face Elphaba but kept her head down. Her hair and the shadows hid her face and a green hand came up to Glinda's chin to raise the blonde's head. As the light from the room caught Glinda's pale skin Elphaba inhaled sharply at what she saw. A split, swollen lip. An ugly purple bruise that started at the left temple and ended just above the cheekbone. A left eye swollen shut and almost black in bruised colouring.

"Who did this?" Elphaba asked and her voice was laced with both anger and a little fear.

"Fiyero," came the stuttering reply. Elphaba looked horrified. She had never imagined, in her worst nightmare, that Fiyero would _hit_ Glinda. He had hit _her_ before, and she knew that, but she had always provoked him – she had always been deserving of it. What could Glinda have done to anger Fiyero so? And even so, how could Fiyero even think to hit Glinda? The delicate little flower, the porcelain doll, how _could_ he?

Her anger started in the pit of her stomach and twisted through her body. It struck her hard and fast and made her body tremble with the force of it. Glinda noticed. "It wasn't his fault," the blonde blurted out. "It wasn't his fault!"

"Of course it was!" Elphaba stood up, began to pace. "I don't care what you did, or what you said, it was not your fault! Glinda, please, believe me in this. No one deserves to be hurt! What he did was wrong! What he did was his fault, no one else's, and definitely _not_ yours!"

Glinda's bottom lip was trembling as she watched Elphaba pacing back and forth. "I accused him of loving you more than me."

Elphaba froze and slowly turned to face Glinda. "You what?" she asked in a breathless whisper.

"I accused him of loving you more than me," Glinda repeated. "And that made him angry. I… I didn't mean to make him angry but _I_ was angry because he chooses to spend more nights with you than with me. I guess I was jealous. I guess I _am_ jealous." Glinda dropped her gaze to the floor. "It hurts to know that the man that fathered your child would rather spend his time with your best friend."

Elphaba sat down beside Glinda again. "It was your idea to share him."

"I know," Glinda spat out and her voice sounded bitter, regretful even. "I just… I thought he would be… oh, I don't know, fairer? Does that make sense?"

"I'm going to talk to him."

"All your _talks_ with him end up in sex!"

Elphaba looked horrified. "They do not!"

"Oh, face it Elphie! He just wants you because the sex is better with you! I'm not surprised, you've had far more practice then me!"

Elphaba's breath caught in her throat. She tried to speak but no words could escape around the sudden lump in her throat. Glinda's words had hurt, had wounded her deeply, and she had to look away to keep herself from crying. "That's not true," she muttered but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than the blonde sitting beside her. "I refuse to believe it."

"Oh, Elphie… I didn't mean it like that!" Glinda exclaimed as she suddenly realized how her words had been taken by her green friend. "I just… I meant that the… the passion is there, is between you two. Fiyero and I have lost that. In fact, I don't know if we ever really had it to begin with."

"This conversation is over," Elphaba barked. She stood up jerkily. "I'm going now, and that is that!"

"Elphie!" Glinda stood up, grabbed a green hand to stop her friend from fleeing. "Don't run away! Please! We need to talk about this! Don't you see how this is hurting me? Don't you see how this is tearing me up inside?"

"I'm going to talk to Fiyero, now let me go!" Elphaba hissed as she pulled her hand from Glinda's grasp.

"I don't need you to talk to Fiyero I need you to talk to _me_!" Glinda cried out but Elphaba had already left the room; fleeing down the hall and disappearing around the corner. "Elphie!" the blonde called as she stood at the threshold of her door and peered down the hallway. "Elphaba!"

But the green woman did not turn around, did not return to Glinda's desperate calls for her, and continued to run away from the painful truth that surrounded her. The two of them could not bear to share Fiyero's love – it was too painful for them to only have a part of him – and Elphaba knew that, due to little Mirelle, it would be her to give up Fiyero. And that pained her, destroyed her, made her head ache with despair. It was too much for her – to lose the man she loved once again.

So she ran. She ran from the palace, ignoring the guards as they tried to question her, and ducked into the back alleys of the Emerald City. She slowed down to a walk only after it became difficult for her to breathe. She wrapped her arms around her body to try and fend off the cold and cursed herself for running into the night without a coat to keep her warm. She could smell the rain on the air, could sense a storm coming, and knew – logically – that she should find shelter soon before she was caught outside in the coming storm. But she didn't.

She made her way out of the back alleyways and returned to the main street so that she could determine where exactly she was. She had wanted to speak to Fiyero but she didn't know where he was. For all she knew he could be back at the palace but she doubted it – he was most likely at a bar or betting parlor. The betting parlor was where he snuck off to when he wanted to get away, when he didn't want to face reality, and there was only one betting parlor in town he dared to go to. He still feared crowds, a reminiscent fear left over from his years trapped in the Southstairs, and he did not like going to places he was not familiar with. So finding him, Elphaba mused, would not be difficult as long as the threatening storm held itself at bay for the next few hours.

It took her nearly half an hour to walk to the betting parlor she hoped that Fiyero was at. She pushed the door open, stepped inside, and had to pause at the entrance in order for her poor eyesight to adjust to the dim lighting.

"I'm sorry ma'am but no women are allowed in here," a man, a person she assumed was the owner, said as he made to grab her arm.

She shrunk away from his grasp and leveled an angry glare on him. "I'm looking for Fiyero Tiggular, is he here?"

"Who?" the man asked, shocked that a woman was talking back to him instead of leaving immediately. Most women could not stand the immorality that was his betting parlor, with his drunken men and dancing, naked women, but this one was not leaving. He did not understand.

"Fiyero, prince of the Vinkus, the man with two wives. Where is he?" she snapped out. "I know he comes here and I demand that I be taken to him!"

"Who are you to demand something of a man?"

"I am the Wicked Witch of the West!" she blurted out. She stepped around the owner and into the poorly lit main room of the betting parlor and as the light illuminated her green skin the owner could not argue who she claimed to be. Suddenly fear struck inside of him as he watched her standing, as proud as she could be, as she scanned the room as best as she could. She whirled around to face the owner again. "Where is he!" she screamed and he could see the fury in her eyes.

The owner sighed, recognizing defeat, and grimaced. "Follow me," he said as he made his way through the tables scattered about the room with men playing card games and betting away more money than they had. Elphaba followed as they made their way towards a door near the side of the raised stage where she made a conscious effort to not look up at the desperate women on the stage parading around scarcely clothed – or not even clothed at all in some cases – and using their bodies to survive. It reminded her of her painful past and she already had enough pain swirling in her heart that she did not wish to be reminded of her past anytime soon, if ever again.

As they entered the room behind the raised stage Elphaba's heart began to panic at the sheer amount of whiskey and scotch she could smell – it was thick in the air – and the only light source was an oil lamp set on the large, round table in the center of the room. There were naked women, with the thinness brought on from too many drugs and alcohol on their frames, sitting on many of the drunken men's laps. They whispered words in their ears; let their hands roam over the men's chests, their hips, their most private area, and the men returned their touches. Elphaba grimaced. "I don't see Fiyero," she said and the owner turned to her, grabbed her arm harshly.

"I never intended for you to see him," the owner said and the look in his eyes made Elphaba shudder. "Now, let us see if all of you is green."

Elphaba ripped her hand from his grasp, stumbled backwards, turned around, and ran for the door. The man lunged for her; wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her backwards. She screamed and clawed and kicked but for all her efforts she was simply too weak. The man threw her onto the table and her back cracked as it hit the oil lamp and shattered it, sending boiling hot oil over the table and onto her back – and sending the room into shadows. Elphaba screamed as the oil soaked through her clothes and touched her skin – burnt it painfully. Some of the betting men around the table voiced their protest at having their card game so violently interrupted but as soon as they saw who was upon the table, could place her garishly green skin, they pushed their own naked women off of their laps and paid their full attention on the prize before them.

But Elphaba would not go down without a fight. Despite her weak body and the painful burns on her back she continued to kicked and bite at the men who tried to get close to her. She managed to roll herself off the table, knocking a few chairs over as she tumbled to the floor, and stumbled up to a standing position. The men tried to grab her but they were too drunk and they missed as she ran to the door. She swung it open and bolted through the main room, ignoring the men who stared at her as she fled, but she was forced to stop as she threw the door open and was met with a wall of thundering rain. Panic grew inside of her, began to overwhelm her, as she was suddenly faced with an impossible decision; stay inside and be gang raped or risk a most certain death under the torture of the rain outside.

She heard laughter behind her and she slowly turned around to find herself facing a crowd of hungry, horny, drunken men. She felt her mouth go dry and her heart beat fast in her chest. "Where is Fiyero?" she asked. She tried to sound demanding, confident, but she couldn't stop her voice from shaking in fear.

There was no answer as the men converged on her. Suddenly she was on the ground and there were hands everywhere, tearing at clothing and feeling her body in a way that made her want to vomit. She screamed at them, kicked and clawed and shrieked until her voice was hoarse. She refused to be taken advantage of again, she refused to be used again, and she realized then that she would rather die than let these men have her body.

She squirmed out from under the suffocating pressure of the men around her and the seemingly hundreds of hands on her body. She half-crawled, half-ran out of the betting parlor and into the pouring rain outside. The pain was immediate and excruciating but it was only physical and she knew, beyond a doubt, that she would rather brave the physical pain of the water then let herself succumb to the men and the emotional destruction that that would bring her soul.

She heard someone scream her name and then suddenly they were arms around her waist, hauling her backwards, and before she could even comprehend what was happening she was back in the betting parlor. Her burnt back was pushed against the wall and she hissed in pain. "Let me go!" she screamed, not bothering to try and recognize who was standing in front of her.

"Elphaba, what were you doing outside?" the person standing before her asked in concern but she shrunk away from him as she could smell the whiskey on his breath. "The rain will kill you!" he screamed at her, horrified that she had done what she had.

"Let me go!"

"Elphaba, do you even know who I am?"

"I don't care!" Elphaba shrieked. "Just don't rape me! Please! I beg of you!"

"Elphie… it's me… it's Fiyero, don't you recognize me?"

Her panic instantly disappeared as she finally looked at who was in front of her and realized that it was indeed Fiyero. "Oh, oh thank you!" she said, hysterically, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Thank goodness you're here!" But then, suddenly, she pulled away from him and felt the anger overwhelming her. She slapped him, hard, and his head snapped to side from the force.

He looked at her in concern. "Elphaba?" he questioned as he brought his hand up to gently rub the tender spot on his cheek. "What was that –"

"For hitting Glinda you bastard!" she shrieked, remembering why she had initially come to this wretched betting parlor. "You fucking bastard! How could you! How could you even think of doing such a thing! Who do you think you are? Who! You have no right to hit her! None!"

"Elphaba please… not here… not right now."

"We're going home!" Elphaba grabbed Fiyero's wrist harshly. "Right now! And you are going to talk to Glinda and straighten this all out!"

Fiyero pulled his hand free of Elphaba's grasp. "We're not going _anywhere_ with it raining as it is!" he screamed at her. "You'll die out there!"

"And I'll be gang raped in here!"

Fiyero looked horrified as he slowly turned around to lay eyes on the crowd of drunken men watching them, leering at Elphaba, and he felt sick. "You tried to… to _use_ her?" he whispered in shock.

The owner stepped forward. "This is a whore-house under the guise of a betting parlor and women are not allowed in here unless to work. She did not leave so she was to be put to work."

"You are disgusting! All of you!"

"You paid for the services of the women here, you are no higher in morality then the rest of us."

Elphaba turned shocked eyes towards Fiyero. "You _paid_ for a woman here?" she whispered in shock. "But why? You have two at home… two who love you… why would you pay a desperate woman for her body when you can have mine or Glinda's? Do you not want us? Do you not love us like we love you?"

Fiyero didn't respond. He dropped his gaze to the floor, fiddled with the cloth of his shirt, and sucked in a deep breath.

"Fiyero?" Elphaba questioned as she stepped away from the wall but her soaked clothes pulled at her skin and for the first time the pain from her burnt, blistering skin registered in her mind and her vision spun. She wavered on her feet and shot out a hand to steady herself on the wall. "Fiyero," Elphaba breathed, "I… the water… my clothes… it _burns_."

Fiyero spun around in horror. "Dear Oz Elphie, come on, we need to get you changed."

"Into what?" she spat out as Fiyero took her hand, led her through the crowd of riled up men, and into a back room. He threw some money at the owner as he passed him by, paying for the room he was taking Elphaba into. The owner frowned at him; knowing that Fiyero was not going to use the room for what it was intended for but knowing he could not refuse a paying man.

Fiyero pushed the door opened, led Elphaba inside, and securely locked the door behind them. He grimaced as he finally looked at the green woman before him and saw how soaked her clothes were. She was trembling as she stood before him with her arms wrapped around herself and her eyes brimming with tears of pain and terror. Fiyero took the blanket off the bed and approached Elphaba, asked her with his eyes if he could help her take her soaked dress off, she nodded. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he reached around her and undid the clasps at the back of her neck, peeled the wet dress – stained with her blood from the opened burn blisters covering her skin – off of her body and let it fall to the floor. Elphaba gingerly stepped out of the dress and Fiyero lowered his hands to her mid-back and undid her bra, letting it also fall to the floor. He used the blanket, which he had kept held in his right hand, to gently pat Elphaba dry; starting with her face and slowly working her way down her body. Elphaba closed her eyes and tried to ignore how the blanket smelled of sex and how bitterly cold she was. When he reached her hips he gently pulled down her undergarment, keeping his eyes averted to the floor, and Elphaba stepped out of them… sat down on the bed behind her. Fiyero dried her legs as best as he could and grimaced each time Elphaba bit back a sob of pain. Her skin was covered with large blisters, some that had opened and begun to bleed, and it pained him just to think of how she suffered.

"You shouldn't have gone into the rain," he said as he draped the blanket over her shoulders and sat down beside her. She clutched the thin fabric with her one hand to keep it from falling off of her naked frame.

"And you shouldn't have hit Glinda," she whispered as she stared at her crumpled dress on the floor.

"You shouldn't have come here either."

"I didn't want you to run away from what you did."

"You run away from yourself."

Elphaba sighed heavily. "I've brought violence into your home," she muttered, "and that's not right."

"It's not your fault."

"Yes it is." Elphaba looked at Fiyero then. "Everything has fallen apart since I came into the picture. I am the catalyst for this, don't you see that? I'm the one that stole your love from Glinda. I'm the one that is tearing you apart with guilt. I'm the one that has driven everyone to screaming and violence. And I'm the one who has driven you to drinking and betting and other women to entertain yourself at night. It's my fault, everything is."

Fiyero gently laid his hand on Elphaba's knee and said no more. They fell into silence as they waited for the weather to clear so they could return home. Elphaba stared at the ground and Fiyero stared at Elphaba. In time Elphaba's eyes began to become heavy and she had to try incredibly hard to keep herself awake. Fiyero noticed this so he put his hand around her shoulders and pulled her close; she rested her head on his shoulder and let her eyes slide closed. "I'm tired," she muttered. "So very, very tired."

"I know."

"So tired."

"I didn't mean to hit Glinda," Fiyero said quietly. "I just… I got angry and I –"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me," Elphaba interrupted. "You need to explain yourself to Glinda."

Fiyero nodded and once again they lapsed into silence. Elphaba's body became heavier as she slipped into sleep and Fiyero held her closer to try and share his body warmth with her. There was a knock on the door and through the worn wood the owner spoke, startling Elphaba awake.

"The rain has stopped," he said. "And I think it's time you two have left. I believe you have overstayed your welcome."

Elphaba blinked a few times and looked wearily up at Fiyero. "It hurts," she muttered, "especially my back."

"Your back?"

"They threw me against a table and my back hit the oil lamp. It broke and the oil burnt my skin," Elphaba explained. "I doubt the rain helped much either."

Fiyero frowned. "We need to get back home, we need to get something on these burns of yours before they become infected."

Elphaba shrugged. "I'll be fine," she muttered as she seemed to stare through the wall opposite them in distraction. "My body always finds a way to heal, always." She sounded bitter; as if she wished that just once her body would fail her, would not recover, and that she would be freed from this painful world.

Fiyero did not reply, choosing instead to ignore Elphaba's somber tone, and stood up. But as Elphaba stood up to join him her vision spun, her head ached, and she nearly fainted. Fiyero inhaled sharply as he saw the blood that stained the blanket wrapped around her back. "Dear Oz Fae," he muttered; slipping into using her Revolutionist name in his horror. "Your back!"

"I feel light-headed," she whispered and she reached out for Fiyero but to do so she was forced to let go of the blanket and it fell to the floor. Fiyero's horror only grew as he saw that her back was streaked with blood.

"Fae… Fae… oh, Fae… what did they do to you?"

"I told you," Elphaba replied and she sounded cross now, withdrew her hand from where she had grasped onto Fiyero's arm to support herself. "The oil and the rain. The hot oil burnt me like it would burn anyone else and the rain, well, the rain burns me just the same." She bent down to grab the blanket again but the change in position sent her head reeling due to the blood loss and Fiyero had to grab both her arms to keep her steady, helping her to stand up again.

When he was certain that she could stay standing without fainting he let go of her and bent down to retrieve the blanket, draped it over her once again. He then grabbed her discarded clothes and folded them up as best as he could. He held her clothes in one hand while he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and held her close to keep her supported. Together they snuck from the betting parlor and the men around them did their best to ignore them – which did not bother Fiyero nor Elphaba. Outside Fiyero quickly hailed down a passenger carriage so that Elphaba would not be forced to walk all the way back to the palace with her burnt skin. She was thankful for his thoughtfulness but did not know how to voice her gratitude. Fiyero, however, did not need her to say she was thankful to know she was. The fact that she was comfortable enough and trusted him enough to let herself fall asleep as they sat together in the back of the carriage was more than enough for him.

They reached the palace gates less than ten minutes later and Fiyero choose to gently pick Elphaba up and carry her from the carriage and into the palace instead of waking her. The fact that she was not awoken by being carried spoke volumes about her exhaustion. Her eyes fluttered opened only when Fiyero set her down on her bed and her burnt back took the full weight of her body.

"Fiyero?" she whispered wearily. "Fiyero, my… my… well, my _everything_ hurts."

"I know," he said as he sat down on the edge of her bed. "But I fear there's not much I can do. If you want I can try to clean the burns with some of your oils, if you think that will help."

"It might."

Fiyero nodded and retreated into Elphaba's private bathing room where he noticed, for the first time, that she no longer had a mirror. He made a mental note to ask her why as he searched through her drawers until her found a few cloths and a large bottle of her oils. He returned to her bedside to find that Elphaba had sat herself up, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. The blanket laid uselessly on the bed behind her and therefore she was stark naked – the sun that shined in through the window landing directly on her. It was the first time that Fiyero had seen her badly burnt skin in the light; the betting parlor had been poorly lit.

Fiyero sat down, cross-legged, behind her on the bed and poured some of the oil onto one of the cloths, gently used it to clean her back. "What happened to the mirror in your bathing room?" he asked.

"I broke it," she replied, "the day of Mirelle's second birthday party. The day that… that Letozay… that… well… when he came…" she trailed off as the horror of that man and what he had done to her throughout her life was still too much for her to speak of. Fiyero understood and did not press the matter.

"You should go to Glinda," Elphaba said after Fiyero had moved from cleaning the blood from her back to cleaning her arms. She suddenly withdrew from him as he touched the nub at the end of her right arm where her hand should be. "Don't," she spat out. "Don't you dare!"

Fiyero looked up at her in worry. "What did I do?" he asked; genuinely confused.

"You cannot touch _it_!" She held her amputated arm close to her naked chest and Fiyero was suddenly aware of what he had done wrong. He realized, for the first time, how utterly ashamed Elphaba truly was of her missing hand – how could he have never noticed before?

"It doesn't bother me Fae," he reached for her arm again but she shrunk away from him as best as she could. "Fae, please… it's okay."

"No it's not! It's ugly and disgusting and proof of how much of a failure I am! For Oz's sake it's proof that I was a thief! A thief! I had to steal Fiyero! _Steal_!" Her voice suddenly became choked and quiet. "I couldn't even make enough money as a whore to feed myself," she muttered. "I'm a thief."

"You're not a thief. You're a survivor. You did what you had to survive, who could blame you for such a thing?"

"Stealing is against the law. I broke the law and I was punished. It is no more than I deserved." She dropped her gaze to the floor and would not look at Fiyero. However, she did not withdraw as he reached for her arm and took a hold if it, pulled it away from where she held it tightly against her chest.

Fiyero gently ran the oil soaked cloth across Elphaba's arm and over its nubbed end. She shuddered at the touch but did not pull away. "The man who cut off your hand broke the law as well, and you know that," he said.

"I deserved it."

"No you didn't. Stealing a morsel of food, whatever it was, does not warrant such mutilation as having a hand cut off."

"So you do think it's disgusting," she whispered.

"No!" Fiyero was horrified. "How can you think that _I_ would think that?"

"You said I was _mutilated_. That's an ugly word for an ugly act."

"It was the wrong choice of words." He brought his hand up to Elphaba's chin and turned her head to him; forced her to look at him as he spoke. "Look, Fae, I don't care. Can't you see that? I couldn't care less about your green skin, or you missing hand, or you scars. It doesn't matter to me. I love you. I love who you are, what you stand for, how you act. I love _you_, don't you believe that?"

She closed her eyes so he wouldn't see the tears pooling in them. "I know," she said; her voice choked. "I know. And… and I believe you. I just… I only wish that I _was_ beautiful. For you. It's what you deserve." She opened her eyes. "It's… it's what Glinda can give you. You must want that. You must care, at least a little, for such physical things as that."

"Perhaps a little," Fiyero answered truthfully. "But not near enough to make any difference."

They fell silent and Fiyero returned to cleaning the blood from Elphaba's blistered and burnt skin as well as he could. "Glinda's upset," Elphaba eventually said, "at both of us."

"I know."

"I imagine she feels as I felt when I first found out that you two were together… that you two even had a child together. Betrayal is a hard emotion to deal with. I fear what she may do if we don't figure this out."

"You're afraid she'll hurt herself?"

"She's done it before. Back at Shiz, don't you remember?"

"That was a long time ago Fae, I think she's passed such a coping mechanism."

"I'm not."

Fiyero looked at her in concern. She took his hand, brought it to her inner right thigh, and traced his fingers across the only scars she had ever dared to place on herself below her waist. He looked down to where his hand lay to read the word cut into her thigh. His face morphed into an expression of horror, then pity, and finally ended on sadness. "Oh, oh Fae, when did you do this?"

"The night after I told you and Glinda about Letozay," Elphaba whispered. "When Glinda wouldn't believe me. She called me a slut, remember? That night that's what I was… a slut, and now I'm scarred with such a title."

"Why?" Fiyero asked as he found he could not tear his eyes away from the ugly word scarred on the green canvas that was Elphaba's skin. "Why do you insist on cutting these horrible and false titles into yourself? Whore, murderer, and now slut. It cannot possibly help, can it?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"I don't know."

"There must be reason."

"If there is then I have not found it. And when I think about it I actually know very little about Glinda. What if she never stopped? What if, all these years, she has been hurting herself no different than I have?" Elphaba's voice was becoming choked as she spoke. "I don't know and that… that's devastating, to even think that Glinda does the same horrible deeds that I do. I'm just… I'm afraid Fiyero. I'm afraid for her, for you, for us as a relationship of three. You might have been right Fiyero, this may be impossible to do."

"I don't hurt myself."

Fiyero tore his eyes away from Elphaba's scarred thighs to look at the doorway; found Glinda standing there. Elphaba closed her eyes and dropped her head slightly. "How long have you been standing there Glinda?" Elphaba asked quietly as she reached behind her, grabbed the blood stained blanket and did her best to cover her naked chest and lap. "How much have you heard?"

"Long enough to know that you think yourself as ugly, that you worry that I hurt myself, and that you're afraid this relationship between us three isn't going to work," Glinda replied as she stepped into the room. "I want you to know that my answer to all three of those is negative. You're not ugly, not even close, I don't hurt myself, I haven't for years beyond my count now, and this relationship is not failing, not yet at least."

"Glinda…" Fiyero whispered as he stared at Glinda's injured face; at her split lip, swollen eye, and bruised temple. "Oh, Glinda… I never… I didn't mean to… I'm sorry I hit you. I'm so sorry!" He stood up, approached the blonde, and stood in front of her. His hand came up to her face and his fingers gently traced the bruise that decorated the side of it. Glinda sucked in a breath as his touch stung her painfully. "I'm sorry I got angry, I shouldn't have. I was wrong and it will never happen again, I swear that to you."

"You've told Elphie the same thing before and yet time and time again you have struck her in your anger. I'm not afraid of you hitting me again, or even Elphie, but I'm afraid of what might happen should you be alone with Mirelle and she makes you angry."

"I would never hit our daughter!"

"Elphie would say the same thing, yet she did. What has become of us? I fear that you both are on the same path that Frex was on. I fear that in the end you will become no better of a monster than he was. And then what? Then what will become of us? When you two are overcome with bitterness and anger what will become of myself and Mirelle? When will this cycle of violence end? With Frex? With Elphaba? With you Fiyero? With me? With Mirelle? Or maybe never?"

"With me," Elphaba said; she did not raise her eyes from the ground when she spoke and her voice was choked with despair and sadness. "I was the one to bring violence into this house and I will be the one to take it out. You two have done all you can for me but I see now that I cannot stay. When my burns are healed I will be leaving, and that is that."

"No!" Glinda brushed past Fiyero and stood in front of her green friend with her hands on her hips. "Look at me Elphie!" she barked out and Elphaba did; flinching as she saw Glinda's bruised face. "We're not giving up on this! Not I! Not Fiyero! And definitely not you! Do you understand? Tell me, Miss Elphaba Thropp, do you understand that? This isn't the end, for any of us, for this. There's still hope and I'm holding onto it, and you better hold onto it as well, got it?"

Elphaba smiled. "Doesn't look like I have a choice, do I?"

"No you don't! We are going to make this work, I'm sure of it. I cannot stand to lose either of you."

"Fiyero sleeps with me at night not because we have sex, for most nights I cannot allow such an act to occur, but because when he is near the night-terrors lessen and the sleep is better. He doesn't mean to abandon you and I don't mean to steal him away but it's hard for me to tell him to go to you when I know how much he helps me." Elphaba's words were rushed and her voice frantic as she tried to explain herself before Glinda had the chance to interrupt. "I never had much luck with sleep and then Fiyero came along and it was just so much easier… we didn't mean to hurt you and in hindsight we should have told you why before it became such a problem but I didn't realize how much not having him at night hurt you."

Glinda looked shocked for a few moments before she could regain her composure. The explanation was so simple that Glinda could not believe that she hadn't come to the realization on her own. But something about Elphaba's explanation worried the blonde. "What do you mean that you cannot allow intimacy?" she asked; hoping that she was not crossing the line with her question.

It was now Elphaba's turn to look shocked. "That's what you took from that? That's the piece of information you latched on to? But why?"

"It worries me. Is something wrong that you cannot allow –"

"Do you think that the men who used me when I was a whore were the healthiest of people?" Elphaba spat out. "Do you think that those who were sick, who had sores upon their bodies, did not pass such a thing onto me?"

"They… you are… but what about…" Glinda was so horrified that she had to struggle to get the words she wanted to say out of her mouth. "If you have… if you have a… a _sexual disease_ –" The blonde was whispering now, as if she did not want to believe what she was saying. "– then couldn't you… well… pass it onto Fiyero… and then… then to me?"

"Yes."

Silence. It was heavy and thick in the air. Fiyero slowly crossed the room, stopped to stand besides Glinda. "How long?" he asked quietly, his voice shaking. "How long have you had these –"

"There were no outward signs until long past our affair Fiyero," Elphaba interrupted; her voice harsh and angry as she tried to stem her threatening tears. "I didn't know then! There was nothing to tell me I carried these… these illnesses… until after Liir, until my time at Kiamo Ko."

"But you've known this whole time," Glinda said. "Yet still, you and Fiyero, and Fiyero and me, and it… _I_ could have them!"

Elphaba shook her head but kept dropped her eyes ; kept them trained on the ground. "I've never once been intimate with Fiyero when there has been… well… any outward, any physical, signs of them. They come in phases, or outbreaks I guess you would call them, and never have I let Fiyero touch me when I have them."

"What are they?" Glinda's voice was high and squeaky with panic and fear at the very thought that she could have had the same diseases transferred to her through this strange, three-way relationship.

"Mostly sores," Elphaba whispered. "They aren't particularly painful but they don't exactly look very nice. And on rare occasions there are rashes, sometimes rashes as far away as my feet. Which I don't particularly understand but they must be connected – it's the only way that it can make sense. And every now and then it hurts, kind of like a burning sensation, when I… well… when I go to the bathroom, if you must know."

"And you never thought to tell us this before!" Glinda shrieked. "You didn't think that perhaps, before we all agreed to this strange, immoral, and impossible to describe relationship, that you should have told us about this you! Did you not even have the tiniest of inclination that you should tell us you carry these – these sexual diseases! – that can be passed on to Fiyero at any moment! That could then get passed to me through him!"

"From what I've read – and trust me, I've read a lot about it – and from what I've been told nothing can be passed on unless there are physical signs at the time of intimacy," Elphaba replied but her voice was choked. "Trust me on this Glinda, please. I've never intended to put either of you in danger of contracting these horrible curses from my past and I don't believe I have. I've done my best to take care of it and to make sure nothing happens between Fiyero and I during times that I have these outbreaks."

"But the… the chance is always there!"

Elphaba let out a heavy sigh. "I didn't tell either of you because I knew this would happen." She looked up at them both then. "Sex is a healthy part of a relationship, of love, and I'm sorry but I just… I cannot love Fiyero without being intimate with him at least sometimes. But now, now that you two know I doubt you would want such a thing. You must think I'm disgusting, to have these sores upon my body, to have these lingering effects of my days as a whore. This is the end of this, of us three, isn't it?"

"No." Fiyero's voice was quiet, his response short, but his tone commanding. Both women looked at him; waited with baited breath for him to continue. "If you have had these, diseases I guess they are – even though I don't feel right using that word – since our time together in the Emerald City and I have never even showed a single symptom that you described then I believe it's safe to say that I do not have them. Which means that you must have them under control. Whatever you're doing seems to be working and I can easily put my faith in you in that you will continue to keep it under control and me safe, and in turn Glinda safe."

"But that could have just been luck!" Glinda squealed, still horrified at the prospect of possibly contracting the strange and terrible diseases that her green friend was forced to live with.

"Perhaps," Fiyero replied. "But I'm willing to put my faith in both luck and Elphaba." He turned to look at Glinda then and took two pale hands in his own. "Are you Glinda? Are you able to put your faith in Elphaba and let her keep us safe from herself like she has this entire time? Nothing has happened thus far, what is the chance that something would happen now?"

Glinda looked at Elphaba, who had tears pooling in her eyes, and then looked back at Fiyero. She sighed, dropped her gaze, before turning her head to once again look at her green friend. "You speak the truth?" she asked and Elphaba nodded furiously. Glinda chewed her bottom lip in thought before letting out a sigh of resignation. "I guess I can," she replied quietly. "Nothing has happened, neither Fiyero nor me have any symptoms. And if you had not told us I would never have guessed that you had them. So… so I guess there's no harm being done."

Elphaba beamed and she blinked rapidly to clear away her tears. "You really mean that?" she asked, she was suddenly frantic with joy. "You really can look past this?" She didn't understand, she couldn't comprehend how anyone could look passed these disgusting diseases that the men of her past had cursed her with. But then, she thought, how surprised should she be? They had looked passed her green colouring, her physical and emotional scars, and her terrible and brutal past. Why would they stop accepting her and her faults now?

Glinda smiled. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes I can. We both can, can't we Fiyero?"

"Yes," he replied. "We're going to get through this, just like we've gotten through everything else together. And now that we know maybe we can help in some way."

Elphaba was so ecstatic at not being thrown out and cast away for yet another fault of hers that she stood up, meaning to take her two friends in an embrace, but the sudden change in position coupled with her burns and blood loss caused her body to fail her. She reached out, dropping the blanket she held close to her body, and Fiyero grabbed her arm – prevented her from collapsing to the floor and injuring herself further. Her legs went limp and Fiyero caught her exhausted body, wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her back on the bed. She let out a yelp of pain as her horribly burnt back took her full body weight.

Then the pain and her exhaustion overwhelmed her frail body and sent her into one of her uncontrollable fits. Glinda stepped backwards, turned around, and chose to look through the window instead of watching her friend being overtaken by her seizing. Fiyero watched in horror as the few blisters that had not opened up on Elphaba's body were torn open by the force of her fit and began to stain the bedding a dark red colour that strangely complimented the Witch's green skin. The seizing fit did not last long but it left Elphaba with a thin covering of sweat – that only added to her stinging pain – and struggling for breath.

Fiyero gently took her hand. "Fae, can you hear me?"

She did not respond. Her eyes fluttered closed and she focused only on trying to keep herself breathing. When she tried to open her eyes her vision swam before her and her head began to ache so she quickly shut them again and let out a small whimper. "I want to sleep," she muttered, "but it hurts too much."

Fiyero and Glinda shared a concerned look and an understanding passed between them. Glinda quickly ducked out of the room while Fiyero sat down on the bed and pushed Elphaba's sweat-coated hair off of her face. "It's going to be okay," Fiyero whispered. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you, okay?"

"I trust you," she replied but her words were strained and it was clear that she was in a great deal of pain.

"That's good, because we're putting our trust in you as well."

"What does that mean?"

Before Fiyero could answer Glinda returned, having acquired what they needed far faster than Fiyero would have thought she could, and approached the bed. She held a bottle of whiskey which she handed over to Fiyero. The Vinkus prince studied it for a long moment – trying to determine if this was really the best course of action – before deciding that they really didn't have much of a choice if they wanted to help take the edge off of Elphaba's pain enough to allow her to sleep.

"We know that you have your problems with alcohol," Fiyero said as he helped Elphaba to sit up. "And we're putting our trust in you that you'll be able to have a little now, to help your pain, and not be succumbed to it afterwards. Can you?"

Elphaba opened her eyes, blinking a few times to still her vision, and looked at the bottle that Fiyero held towards her. She brought her hand up to take the bottle but paused for a moment, as if in thought, before pushing it away. Fiyero looked at her in concern but she turned her head to look at the wall instead of him.

"I don't trust myself," she eventually whispered. "And I don't want to… I fear that… I just… I slip so easily into its grip."

"I understand," Fiyero replied as he returned the bottle to Glinda; who set it on top of the mantle above the fireplace that was on the opposite wall of the bed. "I didn't know you were so worried about it," he continued.

"Well… with Mirelle… I just… she deserves more than to have me be a drunk."

Glinda looked ecstatic. "I'm proud of you," she said as she sat down on the foot of the bed. "Really, really proud of you."

"For not drinking?" Elphaba asked incredulously. "That's hardly something to be proud of."

"Yes it is. It's something to be incredibly proud of. I never thought I'd see the day when you would refuse a drink, especially one we are giving you for your pain. It just seems like something you would not do."

"People change Glinda," Elphaba muttered. "Sometimes it takes awhile, sometimes they need a little nudge, but people _can_ change. I'm learning that. I'm learning that I'm not defined by my green skin, or my allergy to water, or my father, or my past prostitution, or the alcohol, or the drugs, or even you two. I'm my own person, I am defined as what I want to define myself as. I'm not the Wicked Witch, I'm not the green whore, I'm not the failed Eminent Thropp. I'm just myself. I'm me, and only I can determine who _me_ really is. It's strange, to think like this. And it's scary to put so much worth into what _I_ think myself as, but I think it's the right thing. It feels right, at least, and I've never had that before." She wanted to say more but her voice was being choked out of her by her gasping breaths. Her fit had drained what little energy she had had remaining and every heaving gasp for air burned her lungs. She wasn't breathing properly, and she knew that, but she could do nothing to help herself.

And it was the lack of oxygen that was the final straw for Elphaba's body and sent her mind spinning into the chasm of unconsciousness that was so very familiar to her.


	33. Chapter Thirty Two

_And it was the lack of oxygen that was the final straw for Elphaba's body and sent her mind spinning into the chasm of unconsciousness that was so very familiar to her._

--

**Chapter Thirty-Two:**

Just under two weeks later, when Glinda and Fiyero were both busy with one political thing or another and Elphaba's burns had healed quite nicely, Mirelle was desperate to go the park. The child begged and pleaded and cried until Elphaba finally gave in and told the child that she would take her. For Elphaba it was a major step in accepting her new life – she had never taken Mirelle anywhere in public by herself, she had always had Glinda or Fiyero with her.

Elphaba dressed in a simple black frock – she still found it difficult to wear anything but dark clothing in public due to her years of trying to hide herself away – and boots, foregoing her stockings due to the warm, gentle breeze that was teasing the Emerald City. She dressed Mirelle in a bright yellow spring dress, her white playing shoes, and made sure the child had her sunhat on for she did not want to bring Mirelle back with a sunburn – Glinda would not be happy.

They left at quarter past noon and Elphaba took Mirelle to a small café for lunch. The child was ecstatic when Elphaba told her she could have absolutely anything she wanted off the menu. Elphaba herself ordered a glass of milk and small platter of fruits and vegetables while Mirelle started with asking for sweetened tea – something she rarely was allowed when Glinda was near.

Though Mirelle was smart for her age and had already begun learning to read she still needed help. So Elphaba soon found herself kneeling beside the child's chair and helping her sound out every syllable of the words she did not understand. To Elphaba it was natural; she had always remembered being able to read, though she had never been taught, and she had helped to teach both Nessa and Shell. To the other people in the café what they were seeing was shocking – they had never imagined that the Wicked Witch could act so… so normal with a child. All they had ever heard of her interactions with children was the gossip they received from the palace servants of how she had struck little Mirelle; they never thought she could be so motherly to a child like she was at that very moment.

"Mother?" Mirelle asked through a mouthful of chicken.

Elphaba looked up from her plate of vegetables that she was barely nibbling at. "Don't talk with your mouth full of food," she scolded lightly. "Swallow first."

Mirelle nodded and waited until she had finished the food in her mouth. "Why don't you ever eat?" the child asked and her questioned startled Elphaba.

"I eat."

Mirelle shook her head. "Only when mama or papa makes you. Is that why you're green? 'Cuz you never eat? If I don't eat will I turn green?"

"Mirelle, you must try to understand. I was born green and nothing can change my skin colouring. No different then you. You were born your colour and nothing can change that."

"The sun makes people's skin red."

Elphaba sighed. "That it does. But the skin goes back to its normal colouring, does it not?"

"I guess so."

"There's no 'guessing' Mirelle. It is a fact. You are the colour you are born. Trying to find a way to change your skin colour is like trying to find a way to change your gender. You cannot become a boy no more than you can become green, do you understand?"

Mirelle frowned and Elphaba could sense a tantrum coming. "But I want to be green!" the child shrieked. "And you said you could make me green!"

Elphaba had to think for a moment before she remembered when she had said such a thing and that was back at Mirelle's second birthday and the child was nearly four now. "I never said I would make you green," Elphaba tried to explain. "I only ever said I would try. I did my best Mirelle but there is just no way to change a person's skin colouring."

"You didn't try!" Mirelle's face scrunched up in anger. "You just drink that funny drink of yours that makes you dizzy and hurt yourself! Is it because of your father? Do you drink until you smell because of what your father did to you?"

Elphaba looked shocked and a little horrified. "What do you know of my father?" she asked; her voice low and laced with anger even as she tried to keep herself calm. She could sense the curious eyes of the people on them as it was quite obvious they had heard what Mirelle had said about her green mother.

Mirelle dropped her gaze to her plate of chicken and vegetables and pushed her food around to distract herself. She did not reply.

"Mirelle, answer my question."

"That he wasn't very nice," Mirelle eventually said in a choked whisper. "That he hurt you."

"Who told you such a thing?"

"Mama and papa."

Elphaba felt betrayed. "Why would they do such a thing?" she muttered, knowing she was thinking out loud and not expecting Mirelle to answer.

But Mirelle did. "They wanted me to understand why you hit me," the child whispered and her voice was trembling, almost as if she was afraid. "They said that you knew you were wrong but you still hit me 'cuz sometimes it's hard for people to change. Sometimes things are such a part of a person that they do it out of habit even if they don't mean to. They said you were raised with violence and pain and that you hit me 'cuz of that and not because you thought it was right."

Elphaba fell silent and turned her head to stare out the window they were seated at. "Don't you ever tell anyone what you know about my father, okay?"

"Are you sad?" Mirelle asked. "Did I make you sad?"

Elphaba turned to face the child and forced herself to smile. "I'm not sad," she said. "I'm just thinking. Let's just finish eating so we can go to the park, okay?"

Mirelle's face lit up at the mention of the park and she went straight back to eating. Elphaba did her best to force herself to eat as now she was very conscious of the fact that Mirelle had recognized how little she ate and that frightened her. The last thing Elphaba wanted was for her poor eating habits to transfer over to the impressionable little Mirelle across from her.

And that's when the responsibility of being a parent came crashing down on her. All her bad habits, all her drinking and self-harm, had only affected her before. True, it had hurt her friends, had disturbed them, but they were adults and they knew the difference between right and wrong. Mirelle was just a child and what she saw the adults doing around her was what she would think was right. It was no different than when Elphaba had been a child and she had thought her father's violence and abuse was normal. Mirelle saw what her green mother did – the drinking and cutting and starving – and thought it was completely normal.

Elphaba had to change. She realized that now. This wasn't a change to save herself or to appease her friends, this was a change to give Mirelle a chance at life. She knew, Elphaba just knew, that if she continued like she was she was condemning Mirelle to a life like hers and that was unfair and unjust. Mirelle deserved the best chance she could get.

Elphaba either had to change or had to leave.

Mirelle finished her food and Elphaba paid the bill as quickly as she could so that they could leave the café and the staring eyes of the strangers around them. Mirelle had spoken far too loudly, as children often do, and the others in the café had easily heard what she had said. _More fuel for the fire, _Elphaba thought to herself as she held Mirelle's hand to keep her close as they walked to the park. _More rumours to add to the tons already piled on top of my head._

"I want an orange," Mirelle said as she tugged on Elphaba's skirt to get her attention. Elphaba looked down at her. "Please?" she begged as she pointed to a storefront with a large display of fruits.

"Very well," Elphaba replied with a smile as she took a quick right and cut through the crowded streets to get to the fruit stand. She held Mirelle's hand tightly to make sure the child was not lost and as they stood before the display of fruits Elphaba took an apple for herself and let Mirelle choose an orange of her own.

A hand grabbed her left wrist suddenly. "Do you have money to pay for that _Witch_ or shall I have to cut off your other hand?"

Elphaba started and looked up at the man who held her. "Hold my skirt," she whispered to Mirelle and the child complied as she could hear the fear in her green mother's voice.

It was _him_. It was the shopkeeper she had stolen from when she lived under Garivon's roof. It was the shopkeeper who had cut of her hand, had mutilated her. She felt the terror coursing through her and the lump in her throat made it hard for her to speak.

"As a matter of fact I do," Elphaba said, trying to keep her voice level. "If you would be so kind as to let go of my wrist I would fetch it for you."

The shopkeeper glared at her but relented and let her wrist go. She shoved the apple she held into her satchel and then fished through her bag until she found her money and pulled out a handful of coins that she dropped into his hand. "There's a little extra for that apple I stole from you before," she said quietly. "Now if you don't mind we'll be one our way now, _sir_."

The man looked at her in shock and Elphaba took a hold of Mirelle's hand and left as quickly as she could.

"Mother, who was that man?" Mirelle asked as she attempted to peal her orange with only one hand as Elphaba still held her right hand tightly.

"A man I knew a long time ago," Elphaba said coldly. "A man that wasn't very nice to me."

"Is he your father?" Mirelle used her teeth to help her peel the orange and then she took a bite out of it, enjoyed the sweetness of it.

"No, my father died a long time ago Mirelle."

"Oh."

They walked in silence through the bustling streets for nearly twenty minutes before they finally got to the park. Mirelle was ecstatic when Elphaba led her through the guarded gates and took her to the children's play gym in the far end of the rather large park. She was disgusted by the many banns that still rested on the Animals and how they were not allowed to even enter the park yet she, a green Witch, was allowed simply because she was Glinda the Good's friend and nothing more. It made her sick.

Mirelle let go of Elphaba's hand and darted for the play gym. She quickly made friends with the other children and she joined them in their game of tag. Elphaba smiled and sat down on an empty bench to watch and wait. The other mothers looked at her warily but did not protest her presence or try to take their children away. It seemed, in some odd way, that the people of Oz were at least becoming used to her more frequent presence. Or perhaps they simply did not want to make a scene with the children so near.

Whatever their reason for leaving Elphaba alone she did not mind. She was content to just sit and wait the time by as she watched Mirelle play with her peers. But her pleasant silence was disturbed as a young woman, just over twenty, sat down beside her.

"Is it true, what Glinda the Good said?"

Elphaba turned her head to look at the woman. "You'll have to be more specific, Glinda has said much in the years I've known her." Her tone was cold and calculating – a measure of protection for herself.

"Well… that you and Fiyero… that you are, well –"

"That we have a sexual relationship?" Elphaba finished for the stumbling woman. She chuckled. "We do. It is no different than the relationship he carries on with Glinda herself."

The woman looked disgusted. "But… but that is –"

"Unconventional? Not normal? Immoral? Do you think we are not aware of such a thing? Glinda and I did not make the decision to share Fiyero's love lightly."

"But what of the darling little Mirelle? It is unfair to her to be so selfish yourselves!"

Elphaba returned her gaze to the play gym to locate Mirelle to make sure the child was still safe. When she did she then replied to the woman; "I don't think being raised with two mothers is going to harm her. Now if you do not mind my private life is my private life and I would like it to stay as such."

"Two mothers is one thing but when one of those mothers is a green Witch whore that becomes a whole 'nother matter."

Elphaba stiffened. "Perhaps you should go before I witch you into leaving."

"You don't truly have any powers."

Elphaba looked at the woman, raised her eyebrows. "Do you really want to take that chance Miss?"

"Is that a threat?"

"I believe it is." Elphaba stood up then and turned her attention back to the play gym. "Mirelle!" she called. "Mirelle! Come on! It's time to go now!"

There was no response. Elphaba instantly began to panic as she scanned her immediate surroundings. "Mirelle!" she repeated. "Mirelle! Please! This isn't funny!" Elphaba's voice became high-pitched in terror. "Mirelle!"

The mothers around became alerted to Elphaba's plight by the terror and panic reflected in her voice. The majority of them stood up and, knowing what Mirelle looked like for she _was_ Glinda's daughter, began to scan the park not only for the missing child but also for their own.

"Mirelle!" Elphaba was near tears now as she ran from the bench she stood at to the play gym. She searched everywhere but did not find the child. The mothers also began to search both the play gym and the surrounding area. A few mothers, after collecting their own children, ducked into the large clump of trees nearby to see if the child had hid in their as she played. They were driven by their motherly instincts to work together for even though the missing child was in the care of the Wicked Witch they could not find it within themselves to leave a desperate mother to her own panic and worry.

Suddenly there was a cacophony of sound that burst forth as a gunshot rang throughout the park and sent the mothers and children screaming in terror as they all threw themselves to the ground to protect themselves. There was another gunshot, a yelp of pain, and a vision flashed in front of Elphaba's eyes; a scared Bird, a Sparrow to be specific, a Gale Force member, and terrified little Mirelle. There was a struggle, with Mirelle trying to protect the Sparrow with the injured wing, and the Gale Force member only trying to enforce the law. Then he pulled out the gun, and fired – meaning to strike the Sparrow down – but Mirelle, not knowing the consequences, jumped forward to protect the Bird and the bullet struck her instead. She cried out and the blood overwhelmed Elphaba's vision before she returned to the present time.

"Miss Elphaba!"

The distressed call came from within the forest-like clump of trees and Elphaba felt her heart jump into her throat at the choked sound of the woman who had called her. The green woman bolted for the trees, darted into their dark cover, and cut a ragged path through the thick underbrush until she burst into a small area that the underbrush had been trampled on by many children over the years to create a small play space. There stood three mothers with their children, a Gale Force member, a dead Sparrow, and one small girl, chubby and with skin slightly darker than normal, laying on the ground completely still.

Elphaba ran to her side, kneeled down beside her, and placed her green fingers on the child's neck. She was relieved to find a steady though somewhat rapid pulse beneath her fingers. "Mirelle?" she asked quietly as she cupped the unconscious child's face in her hand. "Mirelle, can you hear me?"

"Miss Elphaba," one of the women whispered.

Elphaba turned her head sharply. "What?" she snapped out.

"She's bleeding," the woman said as she pointed to Mirelle's head. Elphaba let her gaze fall on Mirelle's head and saw the blood that stained the brown hair. She inhaled sharply as she gently prodded the wound. It did not seem to be deep and she saw no bone, skull, or brain – only blood – and for that she was grateful. The bullet must have only grazed her.

"Miss Elphaba, I never meant –"

The sound of the Gale Force member's voice caused something to snap inside of Elphaba. She stood up, stormed her way towards him, grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him towards her. "What did you think you were doing!" she screamed at him, not caring that he was young and obviously unsure and nervous. "Firing a gun with such a young child so near! Are you simple minded! Are you an idiot!" She meant to say more but something in her mind stopped her – something about this man, who looked so young but she knew was not – tugged at her heart, made her stop. She knew him, she just didn't know from where.

"The Sparrow…" he tried to explain himself in Elphaba's pause in speech. He was clearly terrified of her. "It wasn't supposed to be –"

"Its wing was broken! It could not fly away! It was not its fault for being here! You should have led it out of the park! For Oz's sake you should have helped it!"

"How did you know that its wing was broken?" he asked, confusion mingling with the terror in his eyes. "You haven't looked at him."

"I saw! You stupid fool! I am a witch and I saw!"

"Miss Elphaba," one of the mother's whispered. "Perhaps you should return your attention back on Mirelle and off of this incompetent Gale Force member."

"Mirelle," Elphaba muttered and she spun around in horror. "Mirelle, oh, oh little Mirelle." She ran back to the child's side, kneeled down on the hard ground, and swept Mirelle up in her arms. She held the unconscious child close to her body as she slowly turned around to face the man again. "Come with me," she said; her voice low and commanding, she left no room for argument and the Gale Force member found that he could not deny her.

They walked in silence back to the palace; the Gale Force member terrified of what punishment he would receive for his horrible mistake and Elphaba terrified that Mirelle would not survive.


	34. Chapter Thirty Three

_They walked in silence back to the palace; the Gale Force member terrified of what punishment he would receive for his horrible mistake and Elphaba terrified that Mirelle would not survive. _

--

**Chapter Thirty-Three:**

Glinda and Fiyero were pulled from their respective political meetings by guards with somber expressions on their faces. They did not say why they had called for the immediate presence of the husband and wife but only that it was a pressing matter that could not wait. They met in the dining room where they were led down the hallway by the guards to Mirelle's room where they felt their hearts constricting as they came to realize that something must have happened to their daughter. Fiyero reached out and took Glinda's pale hand in support as the guard knocked and then called through the door that Master Fiyero and Lady Glinda had arrived.

The door was opened by a doctor who beckoned the parents in without a single word. They went to Mirelle's bedside as soon as they saw her lying, unconscious and far too pale, beneath the covers. They did not even notice Elphaba as she stood by the window looking outside but not really seeing anything – their attention was far too focused on their ill daughter.

"What happened?" Glinda asked; her voice shaking. "What is wrong with our child?"

"I took her to the park," Elphaba whispered before the doctor could say anything. Glinda and Fiyero looked at her in shock as they finally noticed her presence and though she felt their gaze on her she did not tear her eyes from the window. "I let a woman distract me and Mirelle slipped from my sight. When I called for her she did not come."

"You _lost_ her?" Fiyero was horrified.

"She was found in a clump of trees. I did not see what happened but I had a… a vision so to say. I know what happened through that. It was an accident but still, that… that idiotic Gale Force member! He shouldn't have used his gun! He… he shouldn't have been so hasty to act…"

"What happened?" Glinda asked and she sounded terrified of what answer she would hear.

"She slipped into the trees to play," Elphaba said and her voice was cold and flat. "I don't know if anyone else was with her. But there was a Sparrow, and it was injured, and that stupid, _stupid_ Gale Force member!" Elphaba's voice became choked and she slammed her palm against the window frame in anger; rested her head against the cool glass. "She was shot," she finished in a mere whisper as she closed her eyes and felt the tears burn her skin as they rolled down her face. "He tried to shoot the Sparrow but she got in the way. She was shot and she fell and her head hit the ground. There was so much blood! And she wouldn't wake up! And I'm sorry," she choked out. "I… I failed. I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to make her happy. I'm so sorry!"

"You let out child just wander off into the trees?" Fiyero screamed; he was more furious then he had ever remembered being before. "How could you! She is too young to even be alone! She could have been kidnapped! She could have been murdered! For Oz's sake she could have died! She was shot Elphaba! _Shot_! She may die from this!"

Elphaba sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around her stomach. "I'm sorry!" she wailed as the tears coursed down her face and burnt her painfully. "I'm sorry I failed! I'm sorry I let her get hurt! I'm sorry I cannot be a proper mother! I'm so sorry!"

Fiyero stormed towards her, grabbed her arm and yanked her up. "How could you!" he shrieked and his face was so close to hers that Elphaba could smell the eggs on his breath from his morning meal. She flinched and kept her eyes closed as his backhand struck her across the right cheek and coloured her skin a deep purple almost instantly. "You… you… you failed! How could you fail like that! How!"

"I'm sorry," Elphaba whispered as she stared at the ground. "I… I just… I thought that… I didn't… and… I'm sorry!" She ripped her arm out of Fiyero's grasp and fled the room, slamming the door behind her.

The doctor was shocked into silence for a few moments but he quickly composed himself. "Mirelle has been unconscious since Elphaba brought her here. Her heart beats steadily and she breaths deeply but she will respond to no physical sensations."

"But she'll be okay, right?" Glinda asked and it was clear by the desperation in her voice that she was begging for the doctor to tell her everything would be fine even if it would not be.

She did not get her wish.

"I do not know," the doctor quietly replied. "Only time will tell such a thing. The bullet wound itself is not major for it only grazed her skull but when she fell she struck her head on the hard ground with quite a bit of force. There was major blood loss and for a child so young to suffer such a severe head trauma… well… it can be disastrous."

"It can but it's likely that there won't be, right? It's likely that she'll be fine, right?"

The doctor sighed and turned pleading eyes towards Fiyero. "There is not much more I can do so I will take my leave now," the doctor said to Fiyero. "If her condition changes at all, and I mean _at all_, send for me immediately, do you understand?"

Fiyero nodded for he was still seething with anger and did not trust himself to speak. The doctor bowed slightly in respect before leaving the room. In the silence that settled Glinda stared at Fiyero as he stood trembling in fury and Fiyero stared at his unconscious doctor as she lay unmoving on her bed.

"Fiyero…" Glinda began tentatively. "This was an accident, it wasn't Elphie's fault, surely you can see that?"

"She wasn't watching her!" Fiyero spat out as he laid angry eyes on Glinda. "She failed!"

"She was doing her best."

"Her best wasn't good enough!"

Glinda approached Fiyero, laid a hand gently on his arm. "Hitting her was out of line and you need to talk to her, you need to apologize."

"I'm not talking to that… that bitch!" He ripped his arm out of Glinda's grasp. "She failed to protect her! I can only imagine how much she failed in raising my son all by herself!"

Fiyero and Glinda continued to argue as Elphaba ducked into her room and locked her door behind her. She went to the bathroom and caught her reflection in the new mirror that Fiyero had had installed against her wishes. She stared at herself for a very long time; examined the coldness in her eyes, the sick yellow-tinge to her green skin, her thin and damaged hair, her crooked and yellowed teeth, and her unnatural thinness. She was malnourished and sick and dying.

She _wanted_ to die.

She had failed at her last chance at redemption. She had failed at her last attempt to find something good in her life to leave behind. She had simply failed, again, and it was the final failure that her frail psyche could take. She was blinded by suffocating guilt and debilitating grief. She left her room, meaning to go to Fiyero's study, but stopped when she walked past one of the empty guest rooms and saw the Gale Force member – temporarily forgotten – waiting nervously in the room. She went in, letting her guilt get overwhelmed by anger for a brief moment, and approached him.

"What's your name!" she barked at him and her voice startled him; caused him to whirl around in fear to face her.

"I… I'd rather not say…" he stammered out. "I don't… I don't think you'd want to know."

"Don't tell me what I want and don't want and tell me what your name is!"

He did not reply. Elphaba, furious, reached for and grabbed the small chain necklace he wore and ripped it off his neck, breaking its clasp. She held the small metal plate looped onto it and stared in both shock and horror as she read the name carved into the Gale Force identification tag.

It was Shell. _He_ was Shell. Shell Thropp. Little Shell. Reckless Shell. "You knew!" she snapped out, clutching the metal tag in anger. "You knew who I was! Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me!"

"I didn't want to meet you again, after so very long, in such a way as this," he muttered as he dropped his gaze to the ground so he would not have to look at her. "I had hoped our meeting, if it ever came, would be more… poetic, I guess, or at least more worthy of telling. But perhaps that was simply a fantasy."

Elphaba opened her hand to stare at the identification tag again. Then she raised her gaze to the window, saw that the sun was shining high in the sky and she could see the great glittering greenness that was the Emerald City.

"Your gun," she ordered as she tipped her hand and watched the tag fall to the floor.

Shell hesitated. "Why?" he asked.

"Your gun," she repeated and he knew that he would not get an answer as to why from her but he also knew he had no right to refuse her orders.

He took the gun out of his holster but something about the look in Elphaba's eyes, and the way she would only stare out the window and not look at him, frightened him. She was suddenly incredibly calm and collected, as if she had just made a great decision that she had been struggling with for a very long time.

The spell was broken when she lurched for the gun, ripped it from Shell's shocked grasp, and fired – striking her only brother in the thigh and causing him to cry out as he crumpled to the ground. She heard the palace guards flying into action at the sound of the gunshot and she knew she only had a limited amount of time left to do what must be done.

The gun was brought to her temple and Elphaba's hand shook as it rested there. The cold metal was calming against her skin as she finally felt she had the strength to do what she had always desired. Now there was no reason to stay. Now there was no chance to fix her broken life. She had failed at everything, utterly everything, and she knew now that she had to end it before she harmed anyone else ever again.

"Elphie!"

Elphaba closed her eyes at the sound of the blonde's voice and regretted that Glinda was here to witness this. She heard her blonde friend run forward but Elphaba knew that she would not be quick enough to stop her. No one would.

She pulled the trigger.

She heard the gun go off. She felt the bullet crack her skull. She felt the blood pour down the side of her face. She smelled death on the air.

Then there was only darkness.


	35. Chapter Thirty Four

_She heard the gun go off. She felt the bullet crack her skull. She felt the blood pour down the side of her face. She smelled death on the air. _

_Then there was only darkness._

--

**Chapter Thirty-Four:**

"Master Fiyero, there is a man at the gates who refuses to leave until he sees you."

Fiyero sighed but did not turn around to face the guard. "Send him away," he replied. "I wish to see no one."

"We have tried. He will not leave. And he has a child, which he threatens to harm if he does not see you."

Fiyero finally turned from the window he was looking through. They had moved the still-unconscious Mirelle into the unconscious green Witch's room and that's where he now stood. He was still having difficulty accepting the fact that not only was his daughter injured and unconscious but that Elphaba had finally done what she had always wanted to – had attempted suicide – yet the green woman still lived. Her body still breathed, her heart still beat, but the doctors doubted she would ever wake again. To Fiyero it seemed almost cruel to allow her to live like this; with her body functioning but her cognitive thinking all but gone. Was her soul trapped in her lifeless body? Would she never be given the release she desires until she truly died? He didn't know but it frightened him to think that they were keeping her soul trapped in this world by letting her body live on like this – in this empty shell of a person.

"Master Fiyero?" The guard's voice shook Fiyero from his thoughts and he nodded at the concerned guard.

"I will see this man," Fiyero said, "and send him away from here. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone, much less a stranger who threatens to harm a child to get what he wants."

The guard nodded and led Fiyero through the palace. It only took a few minutes for them to reach the palace gates and Fiyero stood behind them, refused to let this strange man into the courtyard. "You wished to speak to me," he spat out, "and here I am. Speak."

"I am your bastard son Liir and I've come to introduce my daughter to her grandfather."

Fiyero was momentarily stunned. "Who are you, to claim to such a thing?" he eventually asked.

The man, who claimed to be Liir, did not reply. Instead, without a word, he removed the large hat the child with him wore and she looked up at Fiyero. She was around Mirelle's age, perhaps a little older, and perfectly proportioned. She looked like any other little girl except for one minor flaw.

She was green.

Fiyero nearly fainted at the shock of what he was seeing. He grabbed the guard's arm to steady himself. "Who is… this cannot be… what is this witchery!" he finally snapped out. "This cannot be!"

"It can and it is," Liir replied calmly. "I never intended to show my face to you or to my mother ever again but my daughter has begged and pleaded to meet her grandparents. So that is why I am here, if you care to know such a thing."

"Your mother is dead!" Fiyero screamed. It was not the truth, and he knew that, but he was so shocked and terrified of this man who claimed to be his son that he simply wanted to drive him away.

For a brief moment Liir looked both surprised and horrified until he could gather his bearings and rearrange his face into an impartial expression. "She wasn't much of a mother to me," he chose to spit out. "So there is little grief in such a statement for me."

"Grand-mama is dead?" the child asked. She looked up at her father in confusion. "But you said –"

"I know what I said," Liir interrupted without looked at her. "How did she die?" he asked.

Fiyero was still so shocked that the thought to not tell Liir did not even cross his mind. "She shot herself," he blurted out, "in the head."

"She was suicidal?"

"For most of her life."

"I thought that a witch could not die. That a witch would always come back."

"You thought wrong!"

"You're lying to me," Liir said. "She's not dead."

"She shot herself!"

"That may be true but she is not dead, is she? If she was you wouldn't be standing here talking to me, now would you?"

Fiyero frowned. "How did you know?"

"I can see it in your eyes. The grief is there but so is hope. She is alive still, but not well, yet you are holding on to hope that she will survive. A hope based solely on the fact that she is a witch, correct?"

'You're an observant one."

"I _am_ a witch's son."

Fiyero nodded to the guard and soon the large gate was unlocked and opened just enough to allow Liir and his daughter to enter. Fiyero spoke no words, gave no orders, and simply turned around and made his way back to the palace. He left the choice up to Liir. Liir could decide to follow him or not. Liir could decide to see his unconscious mother. Liir could decide to meet his half-sister. Liir could decide to bring his daughter into the room with the only other green-skinned person in all of Oz. Liir could decide and Liir could face the consequences.

The guards stared, the servants gawked, and Liir did nothing to hide his daughter's green skin. Fiyero was acutely aware of their presence behind him as they navigated the twisting halls and stairways of the palace until they reached Elphaba's room. He pushed the door opened and then stepped to the side, allowed his son and granddaughter to see the two unconscious people lying, unmoving, in their respective beds.

"If you truly are who you claim to be then that makes Mirelle your half-sister," Fiyero said.

Liir looked up at his father in shock. "Half-sister?" he questioned.

"Yes."

There was silence. Liir's daughter let go of her father's hand and approached Elphaba's bed. "She's green," the child whispered in awe. She climbed up onto the bed, the two adults just watched, and took one of her delicate white gloves off – held her hand near Elphaba's face. "She's the same colouring as me."

Fiyero was shocked. They were not just green; they were the same identical colour of green. They could be the exact same person.

"That she is," Liir said. "Now get off her bed, she's not well."

"Fiyero," a voice cut into the room. It was Glinda. "Fiyero, what is going on here? The guards said – who are these people?"

Fiyero turned to the doorway, looked at Glinda for a few long moments. "Liir."

It was one word, one name, but Glinda knew who he was. She remembered from the time the Wizard had been here, when Elphaba had accidentally confessed of the child she had had with Fiyero without his knowledge. Her mouth opened in shock and she let out a gasp when she saw the child sitting upon Elphaba's bed.

"And the girl?" she asked quietly

"His daughter. And, in a way, his proof."

"Shell's power in the West is rising," Liir suddenly said. "And I fear what he may do when he gathers the courage and the followers he needs."

"If that's what you came to tell us I regret to say that we already knew such a thing," Fiyero said but it was clear he was still reeling from the fact that his son stood in the same room as him.

"And did you ever tell my mother?"

"No," Glinda spoke up as she crossed the room; took a hold of the young girl's hand and gently helped her off of Elphaba's bed. "We didn't feel that there was any need to worry Elphie."

"Her brother is working as a Gale Force member and secretly plotting to have you all overthrown. You didn't think that was a necessary fact to tell her?"

"He's not secretly doing anything," Fiyero snapped out. "Why do we think we allowed him into the Gale Force ranks in the first place? We're keeping an eye on him. Everything is under control so just stop trying to help us when you have only just arrived."

"He helped me sneak into the Southstairs."

Fiyero sighed. "Look, it's nice to see you and all Liir but I don't know you. You may be my son by birthright but you are not my son in any other way. I don't need your life story, not right now. Maybe if it was a different time, maybe if Elphaba and Mirelle were not lying on their deathbeds, I would be more inclined to listen to you, or to care even."

"I did not intend for this to be some romantic meeting where we would cry and babble about how much we regret never seeing each other," Liir replied. "I came for my daughter, and to tell you what I know about Shell. I fear that he may harm his sister but it seems that Elphaba may not live for Shell to set his plans into motion."

"Shell will not do anything," Fiyero spat out. "And this conversation is over. You and your daughter are welcomed to stay in the palace for as long as you wish. But be aware, the citizens of the Emerald City may not take too kindly to your green-skinned child."

"I know the consequences of her colouring well," Liir said and he sounded angry. "You do not need to remind me of such a thing!"

"Then we are on the same page," Fiyero replied, just as angrily. "I trust you can handle yourself within the palace!"

"Fiyero," Glinda whispered as Liir's daughter fled the blonde's side and returned to her father. "Fiyero, why are you being so cold like this? This is your son –"

"He is not my son!" Fiyero screamed. "He is just some child that Elphaba herself cannot even remember carrying to term! He is just a man! A man that is no different than any other man!" He stormed from the room; slammed the door behind him.

Glinda was frightened of Fiyero's anger; terrified to be truthful. She looked from Liir to her unconscious daughter and then finally to her unconscious friend. Elphaba's green skin was still stained a deep purple colour across her right cheek as in her unconscious state she seemed unable to heal properly. Or perhaps it was the bullet still lodge in her brain, the bullet the doctors had been unable to remove without fear of killing her, that was causing her to be unable to heal as fast as she normally would.

Glinda left then, shutting the door quietly behind her, and walked the halls in silence. Fiyero's anger terrified her and she feared the way he was quick to resort to violence to deal with his emotions. She wondered if perhaps his childhood had not been as great as he claimed it to be. Elphaba had been violent towards Mirelle because she had been shown violence towards her by Frex. It only made logical sense that Fiyero himself must have been shown some measure of anger in his childhood to resort to the level of violence he often did. He acted as if he was disgusted by the way Elphaba reacted in anger and violence to situations that did not entirely warrant such drastic measures but Fiyero was not in any more control over his emotions. At least Elphaba accepted her mistakes, at least Elphaba realized she was wrong and wanted to do all that she could to fix it. Fiyero was simply in denial. Fiyero would not accept that how he often acted was wrong.

Fiyero needed to be put in his place and Glinda knew that she was the only one who could do it. Elphaba was too afraid of losing his love to speak up against him and he had no other people in his life besides herself and Mirelle.

Glinda suddenly realized that Elphaba must be terrified of angering him. She had only been struck by him once but Elphaba, dear Elphie, had been on the receiving end of his anger more times than Glinda could remember. What kept Elphaba coming back? Was it blind love? Was it fear? Was it desperation? Or was the love that Fiyero showed her enough to make up for his moments of blind fury?

It was with the thought of speaking up against Fiyero that brought Glinda to his study. She did not knock and instead just entered to find Fiyero standing out on the balcony, a half-empty bottle of scotch in his hand. The blonde crossed the room and stood behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist.

"This must be hard for you," she whispered, "to see Liir. To have him come so suddenly and unexpectedly."

"It's fine," Fiyero replied. He took a swig from the bottle he held. "He means little to me."

"He's still your son."

"I worry more about his daughter."

"She is green, if anything that will help the people to realize that green skin does not equal an evil soul."

"Or they will murder her out of fear."

Glinda inhaled sharply. "Fiyero, you shouldn't think like that."

"I can't help it."

Glinda released her hold on Fiyero's waist and gently took the bottle from his hand. "You get angry when you drink," she explained as he looked at her in annoyance. "And I don't like it."

"I don't get angry!" he countered.

"Yes you do. In fact, you've been getting angry a lot lately."

"So?"

"It frightens me."

"Well it shouldn't!"

Glinda looked away to stare at the setting sun. "You hit me," she whispered. "And you've hit Elphie a multitude of times. Don't you see that that is wrong? Don't you see you're turning into a monster?"

"Elphaba deserved it!"

"No she didn't. No one deserves such a thing and you know that. You just don't want to admit you have a problem with anger. You just don't want to face yourself."

"I don't have a problem!"

"Can _you_ look at yourself in a mirror?" Glinda asked. "Can _you_ face your own mistakes? I've always been able to, Elphie is learning to, but I fear that you cannot. That frightens me because I don't want to lose you. I don't want to help Elphie get better only to watch you get worse."

"You're not exactly the picture of perfection yourself!" Fiyero snapped at her as he grabbed her arm and forcefully turned her around so that she had to look at him. "Don't tell me how to cope!"

"I'm the only one of us three who seems to have any responsible, non-harmful way to cope," she replied calmly. "And this anger is _exactly_ what I'm talking about."

Fiyero stared at her long and hard. He grabbed the bottle from her grasp and took a rather large gulp from it – ignoring Glinda's cross look that she gave him.

"Your childhood, it was hard, wasn't it?" Glinda asked and her voice was a mere breath on the air; she feared that her question would only anger him further but she felt that she had to ask.

"It wasn't easy," he said, "but I was not abused… not anywhere near the level as Elphaba."

"But you were, weren't you?"

"My father ruled the Vinkus," Fiyero whispered as he now turned to stare at the setting sun; finding it difficult to look at Glinda as he talked. "He was a man of rules. Our household was strict."

"So you were hit growing up?"

"Corporal punishment was not uncommon in any family. It is not frowned upon there like it is in the rest of Oz. You must remember Glinda, the Vinkus is a very different land with very different morals than what you were raised with."

Glinda took the bottle of scotch from Fiyero once again and set it on the balcony's railing. She took his hand then, laid her head against his arm. "I know that," she whispered. "But we don't live in the Vinkus. We live here, in the heart of the Emerald City, and here corporal punishment _is_ frowned upon. So is striking a woman, no matter whom and for what reason. Even the Officials will not strike a woman down in public no matter the crime they commit."

"They will for prostitution, you know that."

"For the ones that do not cooperate. But that is not the point. The prostitutes need to be helped anyways, but you know my opinion on that matter and that's not what we're discussing right now. Right now we're discussing _you_."

"So I have a slight drinking problem, is not anywhere near as bad as Elphaba's."

"Elphie has enough of a drinking, drugs, and self-abuse problem for all of us. I don't think I have the strength to save both her and you."

"Well… that decision might be made for you."

"She's not going to die."

"You say I'm blind to my anger issues… well you are being just as blind towards Elphaba. She shot herself Glinda… who can –"

"I know exactly what she did," Glinda quietly interrupted. "I saw, remember? I was there. If I had only been a moment quicker, just a second, I could have stopped her. But I wasn't. And that is the facts Fiyero. But she still breathes. And her heart still beats. She will recover, she always does."

"The fact is that she shot herself, no one can survive that. And I fear that her soul is trapped in her mindless body. What if we are keeping her soul in this world simply because we cannot bear to let her go?"

"You think we should kill her," Glinda whispered in horror.

"A mercy killing. It's common in the Vinkus."

"And again I remind you, this is _not_ the Vinkus!"

Fiyero sighed. "Now who's the one getting angry?"

"Don't twist this back on me. I'm trying to help you Fiyero, can't you see that?"

"And I'm trying to help Elphaba. Can't _you_ see _that_?"

There was silence. Eventually Glinda spoke. "I know you love her more than me," she said. "And I know it hurts you to see her as she is. And I know you would give anything to have me out of the picture. But I am here, and I will be here as long as Mirelle is. I don't ask for your love because I know I will never have it again. I simply want your friendship and your support when it comes to Elphie. I want to help her be happy again and I know she needs you for such a thing. But I fear leaving her alone with you because I fear that one day your anger will overwhelm you and you may harm her in such a way that will not heal. Or perhaps even kill her."

"I still love you," Fiyero replied and he wrapped his arm around Glinda; pulled her close. "And that is not a lie, no matter how much you may think it is. I just, with Elphaba there is something more there. And if she does survive I think we could make this three-way relationship work, if we are all willing to put effort into it. And to stop keeping secrets from each other. That's the big thing, I think, the communication. We don't communicate nearly enough and we need to if we want this to work as I know it can."

Glinda sighed. "If Elphie does wake up what will we do with Liir? Surely seeing him will only harm her."

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it… if we ever do. For all we know Liir may be long gone before she ever wakes up."

"You mean to cast him out?"

"No. He can stay as long as he wishes, I just don't think he wishes to stay very long."

"I came here to talk to you about your anger, not anything else."

"My anger is not an issue."

"Yes it is. Elphie still has that ugly bruise on her face. And remember when you hit me? Don't you remember how my eye swelled shut?"

Fiyero leaned down and tenderly kissed Glinda on the neck. "Does it really matter?" he whispered into her ear. "I love you, is that not enough?"

"Sometimes I don't think it is," Glinda replied but her voice had lost its commanding tone as Fiyero's warm breath tickled her neck.

He took her hand, led her inside, and did not once stop his attack on her neck. She giggled and moaned and her breaths begun to come in heavy gasps. She realized now why Elphaba kept coming back to him. He was everything Glinda could ever want. He gave her everything she did not have. He was her missing piece, just as he was Elphaba's missing piece, and she wondered if Fiyero had enough to fill both of their souls.

Her thoughts ran rampart and unconnected as he pushed her onto the large sofa within the study. She tore of his shirt and her hands traced the pattern of blue-diamonds on his chest. "Oh, oh Fiyero," she moaned. "Fiyero… I've missed this."

"And so have I," he said as he drew his kisses down her neck. He stopped only to help her wriggle out of her dress – it joined his shirt on the floor – and then kissed a path down her chest and stomach. She slipped her hands into the waistband of his trousers and soon they too joined the piled of discarded clothes on the floor. In time their undergarments were also added to the pile and their hands and mouths roamed over each other's bodies in a way that they had not experience together in ages. It seemed, to Glinda, like Fiyero was finally giving to her in a way that he had given to Elphaba for so very long. This was what she had always wanted.

Yet, as they lay intertwined together after the act was done, Glinda could not find the love within her that she knew she was meant to feel. As she laid on top of him, her head resting on his heaving chest, she could not help but feel as if Fiyero had used her love and the act of sex to distract her from what she had initial come to him to speak of. Instead she felt, Glinda realized, how Elphaba must so often feel.

She felt used.


	36. Chapter Thirty Five

_Instead she felt, Glinda realized, how Elphaba must so often feel._

_She felt used._

--

**Chapter Thirty-Five:**

"You were right," Glinda whispered as she stood listless on the great balcony of the palace. The wind teased her curls, blew them flat, but she cared little for such trivial things as her hair now. "The people were afraid of her."

Guards and servants were quick to spread rumours and it took only a few days for the knowledge of Liir's green-skinned daughter to bring about the anger, fear, and destruction of the people. Liir had only tried to leave the Emerald City but the people had not allowed such a thing. Glinda was furious. Glinda was disturbed. Glinda wanted the people responsible to be arrested and charged but she knew that that would never happen. After all, how could one arrest nearly half the Emerald City?

Fiyero handed her a glass of wine, she took it without comment. "She was just a child," she muttered.

"She was green."

"Do you think Elphie would have been able to stop them, if she had been there?"

Fiyero shrugged. "The question you should be asking is do you think she'd care enough to save her?"

"I think so."

"Then that's your answer."

"She was just a child."

"The people feared what she may become. Prejudice his hard to shake. To them Elphaba is still the shadow of the Wicked Witch, they feared she would become the same. Fear does horrible things to good people."

"Sometimes this world sickens me."

"It is the nature of man to hurt those below them. Since the beginning of time we have eaten animals to survive. Now we have simply progressed to hurting each other. It is not right but it is the way it is."

Glinda took a sip from her glass. "What will we do with Liir now?" she asked. "He is devastated."

"As he well should be. He has lost his daughter."

"She was murdered before his eyes. He's a wreck."

"I told him that he can stay as long as he needs to and that, if he wishes, we will fund a funeral for her."

"Do you think there's a family factor to suicide?"

"He is not Elphaba," Fiyero said; recognizing what Glinda was implying. He took a gulp from the glass of whiskey he held. "He will not kill himself."

"Grief is a strong emotion, hard to overcome."

"All emotions are strong, all emotions are hard to overcome."

"I still think we should keep an eye on him."

"I'll inform the guards to do such a thing."

"Good."

They stood together upon the balcony; sipping their respective drinks in silence. "Did you see her body afterwards?" Glinda asked; genuinely curious.

"Yes, didn't you?"

"Not until after the doctors had her cleaned up. Was it bad?"

"I'm glad you didn't see it."

"So it was bad?"

"She was beaten to death, of course it was bad."

Glinda let out a heavy sigh. "Have the doctors said anything about Mirelle's condition?"

"No change." Fiyero looked at Glinda then. "You didn't ask about Elphaba," he observed. "Do you think that –"

"Don't!" Glinda snapped out. She didn't want to hear from someone else what was so very obvious – that she had lost her hope for her green friend. "She'll get better," Glinda muttered as she stared at the wine in her glass. "They both will. They have to!"

"Believing it isn't going to make it come true."

"I can try!"

"You're living in a fantasy world where everything has a happy ending. That isn't the real world. That isn't what _this_ is!" Fiyero swept his arm out in front of him, emphasizing the Emerald City around them and the world he meant. "This isn't going to end how you want it to! Liir is devastated! His daughter has been murdered! Mirelle is unconscious! Elphaba shot herself in the head! We are broken! And I am falling apart!" His voice broke at the end of his torrent of words and Glinda stared at him in shock.

Fiyero set his glass on the balcony railing and turned so his back faced Glinda. He brushed suspiciously at his eyes and Glinda found that she did not know what to say or do. She took a rather large sip of her wine before setting it down besides Fiyero glass and approaching him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back, just near his shoulder bone, as she was not tall enough, even with her heals on, to reach his actual shoulder.

"It's okay to feel a little broken sometimes," she whispered as she held him close. "How many times have you held me tight as I cried about my mother? About that night that Elphie molested me? About the wrongs I have committed to those beneath me in this tangled mess of politics I struggle my way though? About our daughter? About Elphie herself? About every other wrong I have done or has been done to me throughout my life? Isn't it about time you let someone help you? You've been strong for me and for Elphie for so long, aren't you ready to let someone be strong for you?"

There was no response. After a few minutes of silence Glinda became too concerned to hold her tongue. "Fiyero?" she questioned.

"You were right," he said as he grabbed her hands, peeled her arms off of him and stepped away.

She watched him walk away from her. "About what?"

In a sudden, jerky movement his fist slammed against the top of the railing, shaking it so hard that both Fiyero and Glinda's drinks toppled off of it. The fragile glass broke as they landed near Glinda's feet but the blonde didn't notice; she was too terrified of the trembling man before her. "Fiyero?" she asked but her voice was too quiet and he didn't hear her.

"I'm turning into a monster," he muttered. "And you need to get away from me, right now!"

"Fiyero… what is wrong? You know you can talk to me. You know you can tell me. If you would just –"

"Get away from me!" he screamed as he whirled around, grabbed her arm harshly. "Get away before I beat you to death like that mob beat Liir's daughter to death! Don't you see? I'm scared of myself! I'm scared of what I'll do! You must go! You simply _must_!"

Glinda nodded, too afraid to speak, and ran from his presence. Fiyero watched her go, felt the anger building inside of him, and stormed from the balcony to enter the palace's large foyer. He saw Glinda at the end of the room as she ran from him. She stopped at the door, looked back over her shoulder to see him standing there – seething in anger – before quickly fleeing. He watched the door slam shut before turning his anger on the room. He let his fury overwhelm him. He let the blind rage overtake his mind and body. He let himself feel angry because it was easier than trying to sort out the real pain residing within him.

When his anger and energies were finally expelled he found himself standing in the middle of the now destroyed foyer with no true memory of what he had done. The bookshelves had been knocked down, their books spilling out upon the delicately tiled floor. The paintings and marble statues had been ripped from their places, expensive art broken by his anger. His hands were bloody, his knuckles and fingernails torn. He stared at his hands, watching them shake, and felt the tears throbbing behind his eyes.

He fell to his knees and let out an ear-piercing wail that did little to alleviate the pain he felt within. The tears came like a river, pouring from his eyes as the only release he had. But even then they did not grant him the relief he dearly wanted, that he was begging for. Then suddenly someone was near, kneeling down beside him.

"Oh, oh Fiyero," Glinda whispered; her voice a song that broke through his ragged sobs. "Fiyero… I never knew you felt like this. Why didn't you say? Why didn't you tell me you were hurting this much?" She wrapped her arm around his trembling shoulders and pulled him close. "You hide it so well, better then Elphie even. But why didn't you say anything? I could've helped you. I'll still help. Just… just let me in, please."

"Shut-up," he spat out but his voice was choked and held none of the anger he had been feeling moments before. "Just shut-up!"

"Please Fiyero," Glinda continued; no longer afraid of him as she could tell his fury had fled him. "Please, I beg of you. Let me help you."

"Just let it be," Fiyero said. "Just… go. Just let me wallow here in my pain. There's nothing you can do."

"I can be here, to hold you. Is that not at least something?"

"You shouldn't be helping me, I should be helping you!" Fiyero wrenched himself away from Glinda. "I am the man of this house! I am the man in this twisted, failing, broken three-way relationship! I am the man with the responsibility of you, of the Emerald City, and of that stupid green witch who can't find the strength within herself to save her own damned soul on his shoulders! I feel like I'm drowning with this weight of everyone! Don't you see that? It's too much! It's too damned much but it shouldn't be! I am a man! I should not be here crying and babbling and so… so weak! I should be able to handle this! I should be able to fix this! I should have been able to save Fae years ago! Don't you see? I've failed!"

Glinda reached for Fiyero, grabbed his arm and drug him back to her. "You haven't failed," she said as she pulled him close and hugged him tightly. They fell together onto the cold tiles; laying chest to chest. He buried his head in her limp curls.

"Elphie isn't your responsibility," Glinda continued. "She is an adult, not a child who needs to be coddled and watched. She has made mistakes, she will always make mistakes, but we have to let her. She is an addict Fiyero, and as such she will never truly be able to function without something there to make her feel in control. I can only hope that one day she will find something less destructive to make her able to function. But you can't let that be _you_ because she will only break you if such a thing is allowed."

"She feels like my responsibility. Since Shiz she has felt like my responsibility."

"She is no more your responsibility than I am. She will always be an addict, no one can change that. We can only hope to help keep her addicted to something less destructive."

"She's going to die," Fiyero muttered. "She _should_ die. She's always wanted to, she meant to when she pulled that trigger. Who are we to keep her alive like she is? Is that not cruel?"

"If the Unnamed God wants her then He will take her."

"Do you think He would take in a witch?"

"Yes."

Fiyero smiled. He dipped his head and kissed Glinda tenderly, let his lips linger on hers for longer than necessary. "I've always admired your ability to just believe in the goodness within everyone," he whispered.

Their eyes locked on each other. Fiyero's cheeks were stained with his own tears but Glinda did not mind. "It's not belief," she replied. "It's the truth. Everyone has goodness within them, everyone deserves their chance at forgiveness. Some people though, like Frex and Avaric and… and even Letozay, choose not to search for their own goodness. Those people I don't care much for. Those people can have their souls rot away into nothingness for all I care."

"So if Avaric came to you, claiming that he had found the goodness in his soul and wishing to be forgiven, would you forgive him?"

"No."

"But you just said –"

"The Unnamed God would," Glinda interrupted. "But some things even _I_ cannot forgive. And rape, dear Fiyero, is one of those things."

Fiyero smiled, almost jokingly. "You have an answer for everything."

"Of course I do," she replied, amused. "I am Lady Glinda after all, aren't I?"

They fell silent for a few minutes and just held each other. Felt their hearts beating within each other's chests. "I feel calmer," Fiyero eventually muttered; his eyes now closed.

"That's good. You know, you should find something to do to that can help to rid you of the anger that you let pent up inside of you."

"I could take up hunting."

"I don't think Elphie would approve of such a hobby."

"You're probably right."

"I don't think you need something to let out your anger, maybe just something to calm yourself down? Something away from the palace. Something away from us. Something that doesn't involve the betting parlor."

"I'll think about it."

"I know of some men who fish for sport. Who release the fish after they catch them. That could be an idea."

"I told you I'll think about it." Fiyero sounded cross now and Glinda decided not to press the matter further.

"So…" Glinda drawled out. "Are we going to go anywhere else or are we going to lay upon the floor of this destroyed room for the rest of our days?" She was joking, and Fiyero knew that, but he still felt somewhat guilty for how destructive he had been in his blind fury.

"Let's get something to eat," Fiyero suggested as he stood up. He held out his hand, helped Glinda to her feet, and together they picked a path out of the destroyed room.

"I'm glad you're accepting your anger issues."

Fiyero nodded."Let's just drop it for now, okay?"

"But –"

"I know I was wrong, I know I've done wrong, but for now, let's just get something to eat, please?"

Glinda stopped in the middle of the hallway, forcing Fiyero to also stop. "Don't run away from this," she said; her voice choked. "Please. Elphie… Elphie does enough running away for all of us. Don't start taking coping lessons from her because you know that that's a horrible, horrible idea."

"I don't need you butting your nose into every decision I make!"

"You haven't been making very good decisions lately so apparently I do need to butt in!"

Fiyero pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Just drop it! I don't need to deal with you pestering me on top of everything else!"

"Don't you see you're _not_ dealing?" Glinda screamed. "Don't you see that you're just covering everything up with your anger! You can't let your anger rule over you! All that is going to do is drive everyone away from you!"

"Fae loves me enough not to run away from me!" Fiyero countered, feeling his fury building up inside of him again. "Fae loves me too much to ever abandon me!"

"Elphie's scared of you! Elphie's terrified that _you_ will abandon _her_! You're twisting her true love into some sick love built from desperation and fear! You can't possibly want that!" Glinda's eyes widened in shock as realization sunk in. "Do you?" she finished in a breathless whisper. "Is that what you really want?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why are you letting it happen!"

"I don't know!" Fiyero finally confessed. "I don't mean to but I just… I just don't know!"

"Well maybe you should figure it out!"

"And maybe you should shut-up!" Fiyero reached for Glinda's arms but the blonde shrunk away from him in fear.

"You're doing it again," she said quietly, cutting through the stifling anger surrounding them. "The violence, it's your natural reaction now, isn't it?"

Fiyero's face fell. He turned his head away in despairing realization. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "Really, I am. I never meant… I just… I'm sorry Glinda. I'm so sorry for everything I've done to hurt you and Fae! Please, you must believe me! I'm so sorry!"

"I do believe you," Glinda whispered as she approached him. She laid her hand on his arm but her jerked away from her touch. "Fiyero?" she questioned in concern.

"I'm going to see Mirelle and Fae," he replied and it was clear by the way his voice shook that he was desperately trying to hold back his tears. "And I'd like to be alone for while, if you'd please."

"Of course." Glinda watched Fiyero as he made his way down the hall on his own.

His steps were dragged, his head lowered in defeat, and his mind heavy with the thought of his own wrongdoings and sins. He entered Fae's room in silence; sat himself on the window ledge and stared out at the Emerald City. Then, he let the tears fall in silent torrents because he found that without his anger he no longer had anything to hold them back.


	37. Chapter Thirty Six

_**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay in updating but I've been in the middle of an out-of-town dance festival and rehearsals for our up-coming year-end show. So, to make it up to you, here's two chapters in a row. Enjoy!_

--

_Then, he let the tears fall in silent torrents because he found that without his anger he no longer had anything to hold them back._

--

**Chapter Thirty-Six:**

The moan was quiet, almost inaudible, and with no one in the room to hear it it might as well have been inaudible. But still, she would not be deterred. Awareness beckoned at the edge of her mind – she could feel it – she just did not know how to reach it.

Something was wrong though. She knew that when she finally did manage to force herself awake that she would not be happy. It scared her, terrified her, but never waking again scared her more. She knew that this moment has been her only chance to awaken so far and she feared that she would not be given another one.

So she moaned again, this time louder, but still no one heard because the only other person in the room was also trapped in the same unconsciousness as she. So she struggled to see through the haze and foggy blackness in her mind; desperate for some measure of light to grasp onto.

Then there it was; sudden and bright and entirely too painful for her to take. But she was determined and stubborn, much like the other one lying in the room with her, and would not be deterred by any means. So she struggled through the painful light and finally managed to force her eyes open. The room was dark as dusk had settled over the world outside her window, and she was happy for that – it was less painful.

She turned her head, found her body slow to respond to her mind's commands, and looked at the bed beside her. She saw something that frightened her; black hair, green skin. Her second mother, lying as still as could be.

"Mother?" she questioned, her voice quiet and hoarse. "Mother? Elbaba? Mother?"

No response.

Mirelle used her arms to help her sit up. Somewhere in the back of her mind she came to a vague realization that she could not move her legs but her child's mind could not decipher the consequences that such a discovery meant for her future. She was too focused on her green mother to notice anything else.

"Auntie Witch?"

Nothing.

She screamed. A wail that cut through the air and seemed to shake the entire room with its force. She tried to get off her bed, tried to make it to Elphaba's side, but her legs would not respond to her commands and she soon found herself in a tangled mess of blankets upon the floor besides her bed. She did not understand that she was unwell. She did not understand that her legs would simply not work. If Elphaba could see her now the green woman would be clearly reminded of her dear old Nessa but Elphaba could not see little Mirelle. Elphaba could not see anything.

Then there were guards filling the room. In a flurry of motion they had Mirelle off the floor, back on her bed, and someone was sent to fetch her parents. She stared at them, eyes wide with fear and tears coursing down her face. She didn't understand and so she was afraid. She didn't understand why her green mother would not awaken. She didn't understand why she seemed so disoriented. She didn't understand why her legs would not listen to her. She didn't understand a lot of things.

So she found that all she could do was tremble in fear and cry a river of silent tears. She clutched her bedding close to her, finding comfort in having its warmth surrounding her. She struggled to breathe around her choking sobs but somehow she managed.

A few minutes later her parents burst into the room. The guards were sent away and they converged on her; hugging her, kissing her, suffocating her. They were ecstatic, they were besides themselves with happiness, and they could not seem to reign in their joy and relief enough to get any words out.

"I not feel my legs!" Mirelle blurted out.

There was silence. Glinda looked at Fiyero in shock and both of them seemed unable to find their voices to speak.

"Why Elbaba not wake up?" she questioned. "What happened? What going on?" Mirelle's voice was high and screechy with confusion and fear. She was too young to truly comprehend what had happened but she was too old to not want answers.

"What do you remember?" Fiyero eventually asked after a long moment of silence.

"The park," Mirelle replied. "And that… that guard. He want to hurt the Bird and… and Elbaba always say that Animals are just like us! I not want the Bird to get hurt! I want to help! And that guard not listen!"

"Do you know what a gun is?" Fiyero asked.

Mirelle nodded. "You have one."

"Yes, for protection. And all the guards and Officials have them. He shot at the Bird but accidentally hit you. The bullet just barely hit you in the head. He also… he shot at Elphaba when she tried to help you and that… that time his aim was true. That's why Elphaba won't wake up, she's still healing, do you understand?" Fiyero knew his explanation about Mirelle's green mother was not true but he did not have the heart to tell his daughter that Elphaba had tried to kill herself. So he had lied and hoped he would be forgiven for it.

Mirelle nodded. "That why I not feel my legs?"

"Yes."

"I get better?"

"Of course," Glinda cut in, not willing to let Fiyero say that they did not know. Besides, the blonde knew that Elphaba had once magicked the crippled Nessarose into walking – she would surely be able to do the same for their daughter if the doctors could not fix her.

If she ever woke up, that is.

"You look…" Mirelle trailed off as she tried to find the word she needed to express what she was attempting to say. "…relieved," she eventually said. "I been sleeping long?"

"It's been about seven months," Fiyero replied, knowing that Mirelle could not truly grasp how long such a time was. "But that's not the point anymore. You're awake, and you're going to be fine, I promise you, okay?"

A small, shy smile spread on Mirelle's face at her father's words. "And Elbaba?" she asked. "Mother will be alright too, right?"

"Yes." It was a blatant lie but Fiyero found that he could not tell his daughter the truth. After seven months of not seeing her smile he could not shatter her joy; he could not bring despair upon her. So he lied, because that was all he could think to do. And besides, he reasoned, Elphaba would not mind for she herself had lied so many times before.

He enveloped Mirelle in a tight embrace. Held her close and buried his face in her hair. She was shocked and confused as to why her parents were acting as they were but she knew enough not to fight against them. So she let her father hold her without a struggle and she swore she could hear him choking back sobs.

"You don't understand," Fiyero muttered. "You could never know how afraid we were. Mirelle, my dear Mirelle, I can't believe the Unnamed God granted us with you again. I thought, we thought, we just… they said you would never… and you wouldn't –"

"Fiyero," Glinda interrupted. She laid her hand on his shoulder; bringing him back to his senses and causing him to pull away from Mirelle slightly. "She doesn't need to know," Glinda whispered.

"Know what?"

Glinda turned her attention to her daughter and smiled. "It's nothing to worry about. It is over and done with and all that matters is that you are awake and our family is one person closer to being complete again."

"Can I go outside?"

"Of course," Fiyero said as he scooped up his daughter. Mirelle was trembling as her body was weak and fragile from its lengthy sleep so Fiyero simply held her tighter.

"We shall get you a chair," Glinda said, almost to herself, as she walked besides Fiyero as he took Mirelle out to the garden behind the palace. "One with wheels, like Nessa had, until you are well enough to walk again."

"Nessa?" Mirelle questioned. "Who Nessa?"

"She was Elphie's younger sister. She could not walk for much of her life and she had had a chair with wheels to assist her. But Elphie made her better."

"With magick?"

"Yes, with her magick."

"Why I not know her?"

"She died, a long time ago. A tragic accident, it was no one's fault but I think Elphie always blamed herself, at least a little bit. For, you know, not being there."

"There was nothing that Elphaba could have done," Fiyero said quietly. "She had no way of knowing."

"But she did know Fiyero, that's the thing. She saw, in a vision, don't you remember? Or have the years clouded your mind? She knew Nessa's fate before it occurred, she was just not fast enough to save her."

"I don't remember that," Fiyero said. "But somehow I do not doubt it."

"But Elbaba helped her to walk? Will Elbaba help me?"

"I'm certain she shall, when she herself finds the strength to wake up," Glinda said. She opened the large door for Fiyero and he carried Mirelle outside, she followed.

Fiyero moved to the bench within the heart of the garden and set Mirelle down, sat down beside her. Glinda stayed standing. The sun was nearly set now and dusk was quickly fading into night. The air was growing colder and Mirelle continued to tremble.

"What if Elbaba don't help me?"

"She will," Glinda said as she walked a listless path in a continuous circle. She seemed agitated but Fiyero knew that now was not the time to question her, not with Mirelle so close.

Mirelle frowned as she realized that the words she had used had not communicated what she had wanted to say. "What if she… is she can't?" she said instead. "What if her magick not strong enough? What if I not walk again?"

"You will," Glinda spat out, more forcefully then she had intended. "You will because you must! You will because Elphie will wake up! Elphie will get better! Elphie will get better and Elphie will fix you!" She was frantic now, had worked herself into a frenzy, and Fiyero quickly stood up. He grabbed her arm, stopped her constant pacing.

"Glinda, what has got you so –"

"Mirelle has awaken!" Glinda spat out. "Mirelle is better and Elphie is still dying! Mirelle is okay and Elphie could still die! Why! Why can it only ever be one or the other! Why can't we just have everything! Why, for once, can't we just all be together, be happy, be a family! Why can't it just be easy!" She was crying now, and the force of her anger and her grief scared Fiyero terribly. "Why is it always so fucking hard! Why is it that good things happen only to be laced with the bad of this world! Why are we all so damned unlucky! Why does fate spite us so! Why Fiyero! Why!"

She collapsed against him and Fiyero quickly wrapped his arms around her, held her tightly against his chest. She clutched onto his shirt in desperation and sobbed as they sunk to their knees on the cold grass. Mirelle watched them, concerned yet impossibly confused. No one had explained to her the severity of her green mother's condition or her own inability to walk so she simply watched her parents in silence.

Fiyero did not know what to say to calm Glinda down so he held the distraught blonde close to him. Her tears soaked through his shirt and she struggled to breathe. The sun finally set and the moon had not quite risen; casting the world into a darkness so black that they could barely see.

Glinda felt as if the darkness surrounding them had managed to worm its way into her heart – leaving behind a cold, bitter soul that struggled to find the hope in each new day.


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven

_Glinda felt as if the darkness surrounding them had managed to worm its way into her heart – leaving behind a cold, bitter soul that struggled to find the hope in each new day._

--

**Chapter Thirty-Seven:**

"You cannot sit here forever."

Liir didn't even look up as Glinda's voice broke through the silence in the room. "She reminds me of Aelyne."

"She is Aelyne's grandmother. And their skin, dear Oz Liir, how can you stand to see her? Is it not painful? Is she not everything that Aelyne could have –"

"Aelyne would never have been like her!" Liir spat out before taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "Elphaba was no mother," he continued. "Elphaba was no great person. She was a witch through and through, nothing more. She was bitter and angry and cared little for anyone, not even herself. And not even her son."

"Perhaps you simply reminded her too much of Fiyero. Perhaps you were a simply a painful reminder of what she had lost, of what she could have had. Is that not like how she reminds you or your daughter? To me your daughter reminded me of her."

"Aelyne was nothing like her."

"You don't know what she was like as a child, or even a young woman, how can you know that?"

"I know how she failed as a mother."

"And I know how caring she was as a young woman, as my friend. She was a different person when she was younger, a different person before the wrongs done to her made her the bitter, hateful person that you remember." Glinda approached Liir carefully, afraid that he might be quick to anger like his father was. He was sitting at a chair near the balcony, staring at the floor near his mother's bed.

"I hate her," he whispered. "Yet… yet I find that I still love her. Is that wrong?"

"I don't believe so. Elphie herself always found that she loved her father, even after all he had done to hurt her. Do you know her story at all? Do you know her past in anyway?"

"Only that she was a whore, back in her younger years in the Emerald City. And that she was part of the Resistance, at some point."

Glinda nodded, not questioning how Liir could possibly know such a thing, and moved towards the balcony door. She undid the latch and pushed the door opened; sat herself down on the top of the balcony's railing. Liir, sensing that she wanted his presence outside, stood up and moved towards her; leaned against the railing beside her.

"Would you like to know? Would you like to hear what I know, if I can bear to speak her story without breaking down?"

"Wouldn't she mind?"

"Do you really think you'll still be here when she finally wakes up?"

"Do you really think that she'll wake up?"

"I do."

Liir sighed, dropped his gaze to the stone balcony floor. "Why do you want to tell me?"

"I think you should know. I think it will help you to understand the person your mother became, the person she is trying not to be now. She's not the same bitter woman that you remember. I'd like you to see that."

"I know how she raised me. I know what she is."

"You know what she _was_. If you do stay to see her awaken you will see the change in her. She is not perfect, not anywhere close to such a thing, but she is not the woman you know in your mind. She is still an addict, she is still self-destructive, and she will probably never love herself as much as she should, but she is still your mother. Does she not deserve a chance to redeem herself?"

"No."

"So you won't listen to her story, even if I tell you?"

"No."

"Why?"

Silence. "I don't want to know of her terrible past. I don't want to hear what horrors she lived through. She is still my mother, after all, and I don't like the thought of her as a whore… as a woman forced to use her body to survive. It sickens me, in every way possible, and I don't want to hear of it. I saw enough of such a vile life style when I spent that time with Shell."

"Her brother?"

"He is not of the most moral of people. And that is all I will say on the matter."

"Liir, if he is abusing his position as a Guard I need to know."

"If you don't know what he has done then your system is far more corrupt than I feared. Be cautious, that is all I will say."

"But –"

"He _is_ my uncle," Liir interrupted, "and it is not my place to turn him in. But keep an eye on him. He is quick and sneaky and knows how to bend the rules. If you let him run wild then there will be disaster for all."

Glinda nodded. "I will make sure he is watched. Thank you."

Liir raised his head to look through the opened balcony doors. Elphaba laid as still as always upon her bed. Her chest barely rising, her body barely alive. "It's been over a year."

"I know."

"I see Mirelle is still condemned to that wretched chair."

"It is not wretched! It gives her freedom, to some extent."

"The doctors cannot help her?"

"No."

"And you hope my mother will be able to."

"You know that answer already."

"She won't be able to. Even if she does wake up she's simply not that strong. She never could control her magick, I remember that from my childhood."

"It seems you have inherited her cynical nature," Glinda spat out and it was clear that she was beginning to get angry.

"Fiyero wants to let her die."

Glinda sighed. "I know he thinks we should… should kill her… but I… I just can't! You don't understand! I cannot let her go! I just cannot!"

"I do understand. And so does Fiyero. Do you think that he finds it easy to talk of killing her? He doesn't. He just thinks it is the right thing to do."

"Well I don't!"

"I know. That's why she's still alive."

"We're not killing her, and that is that."

There was silence for a few minutes and the wind blew around them. It was a cool wind tonight, one that brought goosebumps to their exposed skin. "I don't think I shall be staying much longer."

"Where do you plan on going?"

"The Vinkus is falling apart and since my father seems incapable, or unwillingly, to uphold the leadership role bestowed upon him at birth the responsibility must fall to someone… and that someone seems to be me."

"Their civil war is brutal, they could kill you."

"I know."

"Somehow I don't think you would mind that, now that Aelyne is gone."

"I never wanted her yet somehow she grew on me, even with her green skin."

"Did you hate her for that?"

"Aelyne? No. I hated my mother, for passing that cursed green gene down through me. But not Aelyne, never Aelyne. How could I hate my own daughter?"

"How can you hate your own mother?"

A small smile teased Liir's lips. "I like you," he said. "You speak with pure honestly. That is a rarity nowadays."

"I learnt to do such a thing from trying to help your mother. Elphaba always needed someone to tell her the truth, no matter how painful it was, because she often refused to tell herself anything that was even remotely near the truth."

"Like the fact that I was her son."

"She never told you out right, did she?"

"I don't think she even really knew. Or if she did she didn't want it to be the truth. She missed Fiyero terribly, the grief was always there… pooling in her eyes. I never knew why as a child but I eventually figured it out."

"She's been hurt. A lot."

"I know."

"She'll get better. She'll wake up. I know she will. She always does."

"Keep telling yourself that," Liir said as he stood up. "Maybe one day a miracle will happen."

Glinda said no more as she watched her green friend's son leave the room. She frowned and had the sudden realization that if she leaned back just slightly she would lose her balance and tumble from the balcony to the hard ground three floors below. The fall could kill her, at the worst, or simply break a few bones. It was a thought that shocked her as it crossed her mind but the grief and despair that welled up inside of her as she looked at Elphaba in her deathly sleep was so great that it made such a thought seem almost rational.

_Almost_.

Glinda shook her head to clear her thoughts and slid off the railing. She entered the room, careful to close and lock the balcony doors behind her incase the cold air should give Elphaba a chill. She approached Elphaba's bed and her pale hand grazed the side of Elphaba's green cheek.

"I wish I could heal you," she whispered as the tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "I wish… I wish I could've seen you smile one last time before the end."


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight

_"I wish I could heal you," she whispered as the tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "I wish… I wish I could've seen you smile one last time before the end."_

--

**Chapter Thirty-Eight:**

She was running. She was naked, shaking, and utterly confused so all she could do was run. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. She just ran. In time she began to recognize that she was in some sort of forest but no matter how far or fast she ran the trees did not change. It seemed that she was running in circles. She became exhausted and soon tripped over a branch; collapsed to the ground. Her body seemed to reject her very being as she found herself dry heaving for nearly ten minutes. When she finally seemed to get control over herself she looked around to find that she was completely lost and confused and felt that she had collapsed into some strange blissful darkness of insanity.

She leaned back on her heals, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her hair fell in tangled knots around her shoulders and down her back. She suddenly felt incredibly cold and when she tried to stand she found her legs too weak to support her own weight.

Tears throbbed behind her eyes but she would not let herself cry. She wasn't even sure why she felt the need to cry. She couldn't remember and that thought unsettled her. She couldn't remember anything and for some reason she had the strange feeling that she should remember – that she needed to remember.

Someone laid a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away from the touch but the person would not let her be.

"My dear Fabala."

Elphaba's head snapped up at the old nickname. It dredged up faint memories from her past and the woman standing before her was suddenly so very, very familiar.

The woman kneeled down to bring herself to the same level as Elphaba. "My little terror. My green freak. How long we have been parted! In some strange way it seems that I have come to miss you."

Elphaba opened her mouth to speak, to ask the woman before her where she was but she could not form any words. It was as if she had forgotten how to talk.

The realization frightened her.

The woman fell silent and leaned in closer to Elphaba. "Go back," she said. "You are not well. You should not be out here alone. In fact, you should not be here at all."

Elphaba tried to speak but yet again she was rendered unable to form words. She could understand the woman, could understand the spoken language, but she had all but forgotten how to speak herself.

"I can see it in your eyes. I can see the pain and horror you have suffered through." The woman closed her eyes, seemed to be trying to stop herself from crying. "Go back before you condemn yourself to insanity. Go back before you become what I did."

"Mo… mother?" Elphaba finally managed to choke out.

The woman nodded. "It is me. I'm glad you can remember."

"Why… why are you… here?" Elphaba had to concentrate greatly on every word she tried to speak as language seemed altogether foreign to her.

"I'm not here," Melena said. "Not really."

Elphaba looked confused as she leaned away from her mother's presence. "I… don't under… understand."

"I'm in your mind."

Elphaba frowned, shook her head slightly. "No," she whispered. "I… I can touch you. You… you're here."

"I'm your mind's last desperate attempt to save itself."

"Save itself?"

"You have fallen in to insanity. Can you not see that?"

Elphaba's eyes widened in horror. "Insanity?" she questioned, her voice shaking.

"You are my little horror. The green child I should never have had and fate has thrown that fact into your face time and time again." Melena sighed, wrapping Elphaba's hand in her own and squeezing it tightly. "You are the embodiment of my sins."

"I am the sins of the whole world." Elphaba pulled her hand from her mother's grasp and held it tightly to her chest as if it had been burnt by Melena's very touch. "I have done horrible deeds."

"Every horrible deed deserves a punishment."

Elphaba nodded, closing her eyes against her tears. "What… what… is my punishment? When will… it end?"

"You have not yet experienced your punishment."

"Then what is this!" Elphaba snapped out. She swung her arm around her, emphasizing the life she spoke of. "What have I suffered for! What have I hurt for!"

"For me."

Melena's words were like a slap to Elphaba. She felt physically ill and unnaturally cold; as if her very soul had just been frozen.

"You are trapped in a body that cannot experience the joys of water. Of rain. Of simple freedom," Melena tried to explain. "When a storm comes you are a prisoner. That, in itself, is a punishment far greater than you ever deserved. From birth fate has sought to punish me through you."

"Did it work?" Elphaba's voice was choked and hollow; she dropped her gaze to the ground

"I never particularly loved you so… no."

"It has all been for nothing?"

"You are still here, are you not?"

"I have done horrible things but… but I cannot remember what they were."

"That is why I'm here."

Elphaba sniffled. "Why did you have to die? Why did you have to leave me alone with father?"

"That was fate's choice."

"Stop blaming fate!" Elphaba screamed. She stood up, her mother matched her movements, and turned to flee.

Melena grabbed Elphaba's wrist, held her tight. "I'm not."

Elphaba turned flashing eyes on to her mother. "Yes you are! Fate didn't make me born green! Fate didn't make Nessa born disabled! Fate didn't make you die! You're selfishness! You're… you're desperate need for sex! And you're inability to love either of your daughters caused your death! You deserved it!"

"Are _you_ blaming fate?" Melena whispered; her quiet voice cutting through her daughter's hysterics.

Elphaba fell silent and found herself unable to do anything but stare at her mother's eyes. "Am I?" she repeated, uncertain that she had heard Melena correctly. "Am I blaming fate?"

"Is this why you are here? Is this what your mind wants… needs… you to discover?"

Elphaba shook her head, far too violently then necessarily, and tried to pull away from Melena but her mother would not let her go. "You must face this," Melena said. "You must realize what you're running away from before it's too late."

"I'm not running away from anything!" The angrier Elphaba got the easier she found the words to speak. The angrier she got the more in control she felt.

"Do you truly believe that?"

"Yes!"

Melena sighed and her eyes became glassy with tears that she desperately held back. "Then you are lost to this world," she muttered as she let go of Elphaba's wrist. She turned her back on her daughter and began to walk away.

Elphaba stared after her mother, stunned. "Don't…" she whispered, her voice falling to a register so quiet that she couldn't even hear her own words. "Don't go…"

Melena did not respond as her body faded in to the shadows of the trees.

"Mother…" Elphaba fell to her knees in her sudden grief. "Help me…"

Melena stopped walking. "I'm not the one to help you," she said, her voice floating through the air.

"If not you… then… then who?" Elphaba bit her bottom lip, trying to stop her tears by distracting herself with pain.

"You know the answer."

"No I don't!" Elphaba could no longer hold back her tears and the salty water burned fiery trails down her green face. Her despair and desperation was clear with every word she said but sill her mother would not turn around; would not return to her. "Mother! Please! Tell me! I… I need to know!"

"I cannot tell you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I am the answer."

Elphaba closed her eyes. "Then why won't you tell me?"

"You need to find the answer yourself."

Then Melena was gone. Her figure disappearing into the shadows the rising sun created around the trees. Elphaba stared after her, willing her to return, but there was nothing but the strange silence around her. She felt cold and she was vaguely aware of her shivering, naked body but she could not bring herself to move.

"Elphaba?"

The green woman jerked away from the sound and wrapped her arms around her bare chest protectively. She opened her mouth to speak but just like earlier she found herself unable to form the words she wanted to say.

"Elphaba?"

A woman with black hair, pale skin, and looking very familiar appeared in Elphaba's line of vision. Elphaba, however, could not place the person. She knew that somewhere in the depths of her mind laid the name of the woman addressing her but she could not find it. She could not find any information that she dearly wanted… needed.

"Elphaba?" The woman laid a hand on Elphaba's shoulder but quickly removed it as the green woman instinctively pulled way. "Elphaba… my dear sister… why are you out here in such a state?"

"Nessa?" Elphaba managed to whimper out. "Nessie… is, is it really you?"

"Can it be me if I am dead and you are not?"

"I shot myself," Elphaba suddenly blurted out as the memory came rushing back to her. "That's why… that's why I'm here. That's why I could talk to mother, can talk to you. I'm dead, aren't I?"

"You could be very soon."

"This doesn't make any sense!"

"It could, if you just let it."

"You're not making any sense!"

"Am I not making sense or are you just refusing to let me make sense? To let _this_ make sense?"

"I don't understand!"

"You don't have to."

"You're not making any sense! You and mother both! Where am I? What is going on? Am I dead or am I not!"

"It's up to you."

"What is!" Elphaba forced herself to stand and as she wavered on her feet Nessa gently held her arm to keep her steady.

"Life or death. It's up to you now."

Elphaba was startled. "I have a choice?"

"I don't know, do you?"

"Stop answering my questions with more questions! It's not helping!"

"What do you think? Do you _believe_ you have a choice?"

"What does belief have to do with anything!"

"Did you believe you could magick your broom into flying? Did you believe you could make me walk? Did you believe you could save Fiyero when his life hung in the balance? Do your powers lay in your magick or in your belief?"

"How am I supposed to know the answer to that!"

"Did you believe that Letozay controlled you? Did you believe in your own worthlessness? Did you believe father really was regretful for the years he abused you? Did you believe you were… you are… a whore? Did you believe that Mirelle's injury was your fault?"

"Nessie…" Elphaba's voice dropped to a whisper as her anger fled her and was replaced by guilt and uncertainty. "Nessie… why are you saying these things?"

"Did you believe? Do you believe? Are you powers caused by your magick or your belief? Do you truly think Frex is your father or are you really, as the Clock of the Time Dragon said, the Wizard's daughter? Are you really a child of two utterly different worlds? Does that explain your powers or does your magick? Or you belief? Or maybe you've just been insane all this time? It's up to you Elphie. It's up to what _you_ believe. And in the end all that matters is if you believe you deserve another chance."

"A chance?"

"Yes," Nessa said with a smile. "Do you believe you are deserving of another chance?"

"And if I don't?"

"Who knows?" Nessa shrugged. "Perhaps you would end up where I am, or perhaps where father is, or perhaps where Garivon and his family is? I cannot say and neither can you. Are you willing to step into another life with only your past to lead you on or do you believe yourself worthy of another chance at the life you left behind when you pulled that trigger? And do you even want another chance at that life? Is there anything, or anyone, that you left behind that you want to see again? That you want another chance with?"

"I… I don't know." Elphaba was confused and a little frightened. She didn't know what she was supposed to do or say and that terrified her.

"If you don't know then look to your friends. Do you think they would believe you worthy of a second chance?"

"I… well… I guess that… maybe… I think so."

"Then that is your answer." Nessa smiled but it was tinged with despair. "I had hoped we would finally be able to reunite but I guess that now is still not the time."

"What do you mean?"

"You have made your choice," Nessa whispered as the tears collected in her eyes, traced down her face. "And it seems that it still does not involve me. You are strong Elphie, stronger than anyone else from our family for we all faced this decision and we all gave up. You didn't and for that you should be proud. You are strong. Now believe in yourself because that's all you need… just a little belief."

Then there was blackness, and spiraling lights, and strange sounds. There were voices, conversations around her, but she couldn't understand the words. She was floating but lying on a soft bed at the same time. It was strange – like a drug trip gone very, very wrong. It frightened her and she wanted her sister back, her mother back, and the blissfulness that their strange forest-clad world with its dawn-break sunlight had given her.

There was a bright light and Elphaba shut her eyes quickly to block it out. That was when she realized that the light had been there because she _had_ opened her eyes, because she _could_ open her eyes. So she opened them again, only this time far more slowly, to find herself lying in her bed, in her room, in Glinda's palace.

She was not dead.

Her back ached and she wondered how long she had been lying there. She slowly sat up and her vision spun but she closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again the room was still. She looked around to find that no one was around but when she caught sight of the world outside it was covered in a layer of snow.

Hadn't it been spring before?

She brought her hand up to her temple and felt the jagged scar there from the bullet that had pierced her skull. She had shot herself, that much was for certain, but somehow she had survived. Was it luck? Was it her magick? Was it belief? – like Nessa had said. She didn't know and she doubted that she would ever know.

She pulled the sheets back, swung her legs off the edge of the bed, and slowly tried to stand – testing her strength. Her legs were weak but it seemed that they would be able to carry what little weight her body was. She smiled and did not even care that she was naked as she made her way to her door. At the last minute she grabbed a spare blanket that was left on a chair and shrugged it on over her shoulders; wrapped it around her naked body. When she opened the door the guard standing beside it spun around to see who was there and Elphaba smiled as she saw the shock plastered on his face.

She laughed as he started, screamed, and then went running down the hall to find someone far more capable than he of handling this unexpected development.


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine

_She laughed as he started, screamed, and then went running down the hall to find someone far more capable than he of handling this unexpected development._

--

**Chapter Thirty-Nine:**

Fiyero had been helping to teach Mirelle to write when the guard burst into his study panting and with a look of terror and confusion on his face. "She… her… I was just… the door… she came out… and… Master Fiyero she is awake!" the guard blurted out.

It was now Fiyero's turn to look utterly confused as he watched the frantic guard before him. "Who are you talking about?"

"Miss Elphaba!"

Fiyero was standing instantly and fleeing down the twisting hallway just as fast. Mirelle was left behind in both confusion and fear in the study as she was forced to slowly follow her father in her chair – still finding that navigating the chair herself was awfully difficult. The guard went running in the opposite direction to pull Glinda out of the meeting she was currently in.

It was Fiyero who found Elphaba first. She had walked down the hall slightly from her room and was standing still, studying a painting that was hanging up.

"Elphaba?" Fiyero asked as he slowly approached her. He couldn't be sure of her emotional stability or even her mental capacity. After all, she had shot herself in the head and it was almost guaranteed that she would have some measure of brain damage.

"This wasn't here before," Elphaba said and she seemed engrossed by the painting.

"You've been sleeping for quite some time, things have changed a little."

She turned her head to look at Fiyero and her eyes seemed… different; lighter almost – as if a weight had been lifted from her mind. "How long?" she asked.

"It would have been two years time in three more months."

Elphaba nodded and turned her head back to the painting. "I saw my mother," she whispered. "She told me to stop blaming fate."

"Really?"

"And I saw Nessa. She asked me if I believed I deserved another chance."

"And what did you say?"

"I didn't have an answer so she asked me if I thought my friends would consider me worthy enough for another chance. I said yes and… well… here I am. I guess you all had the hard job, I just got to sleep the time away."

"How are you feeling?"

"If you're wondering if my brain function has suffered I cannot say. I don't feel much different, the memories and the pain are still there, but I just…" Elphaba sighed. "I cannot explain it."

"Do you remember what you did?"

"I shot myself," Elphaba said quietly. "There's a scar, isn't there? I felt it when I woke up."

"Yes."

"Mother?"

Elphaba started at the child's voice and turned to look at who had spoken. "Mirelle?" she questioned and a large smile slowly grew on her face as she registered the child before her. "Mirelle? Oh, oh Mirelle! You're alive! You're okay!" Elphaba was overwhelmed with relief, was ecstatic with joy. "Oh Mirelle! I'm so glad!" But then suddenly she registered the chair that Mirelle sat in, the chair with wheels. The chair that was so damn close to the chair Nessa had used that it almost made Elphaba physically ill to see it. She knew what it meant, she knew exactly what it meant, and she tried desperately to hide the grief from her face so that Mirelle would not pick up on it.

The child, always perceptive, did though. "Elphaba?" she questioned and if was the first time the green woman had heard Mirelle say her name properly. "Elphaba, you're awake?"

"That I am," Elphaba said as she made a conscious effort to lower her voice so as to stop scaring Mirelle who was quite obviously frightened by her green mother's sudden appearance in her life again.

Mirelle nodded. "Mama said you could make me walk again, will you?"

Elphaba was so shocked that for a moment she could not speak. "I… I just… I don't… well… I will try," she stammered out. "But my magick… Mirelle, you must understand, I just cannot control… and it comes and goes… and I've been ill for very long… it might not be –"

"Mama promised that you would."

Elphaba bit her bottom lip and found that she felt anger towards Glinda for the fact that her blonde friend would dare to make such a promise to Mirelle knowing that such a thing might not be even possible. "I realize that but she shouldn't have –"

"Elphaba, please," Fiyero interrupted. "Don't you even dare say that you can't. Not until you've tried. After all, you magicked Nessa into walking, did you not?"

Elphaba opened her mouth to respond but had no time to dispute Fiyero's words as Glinda was suddenly there – her pale arms wrapped around Elphaba's neck and nearly knocking the green woman over with the strength of her hug. "Elphie!" the blonde squealed. "Oh, oh Elphie! Elphie! Elphie! _Elphie_!" Her words trailed off as tears coursed down her face and choked her voice from her.

Elphaba smiled as Glinda embraced her. She clutched the blanket tightly with her hand to keep it in place. "Yes I'm awake Glinda. Yes I'm alive. Are you really that shocked? Did you really think I was actually going to leave you like that?"

Glinda couldn't find her voice. She buried her head in Elphaba's chest and cried into the blanket that covered the green woman's nakedness. A green chin rested on top of blonde curls and Elphaba began to hum a quiet tune. When Glinda calmed down enough that her green friend could get a word in through her loud sobs Elphaba spoke; "I'd like to find some clothes to wear, if that's at all possible."

Glinda pulled away from Elphaba and looked up at her friend. She wiped at her eyes and nodded. "Of course, of course," she choked out. "Come on, there should be some in your room."

Elphaba followed Glinda and Fiyero picked up Mirelle from her chair, held her tightly in his arms, and fell into step behind them. When they reached Elphaba's room Fiyero stayed outside with his daughter as the two old friends entered Elphaba's bedroom and let the door shut behind them. Glinda rummaged through dresser drawers until she found a pair of thick stockings and a thick, dark gray winter dress with a high neck and long sleeves. She tossed them towards Elphaba along with a set of undergarments and the blonde kept her back facing her friend as Elphaba dropped the blanket and dressed as quickly as she could with only one hand.

"Feel better?" Glinda asked as she turned around. She was still crying and no matter how many times she tried to wipe her tears away more just replaced them. She couldn't find the control to stop her blubbering sobbing.

Elphaba nodded – she was sitting on her bed now. "I'm cold," she said as she studied her lap.

Glinda sat down beside her. "You just need to eat a little, get your weight up, then you won't be so cold anymore."

"Fiyero said it's been almost two years."

"It has."

"Mirelle can't walk."

"Oh, Elphie." Glinda took a hold of a green hand and squeezed it gently. "Mirelle is fine. Don't you worry about her right now, okay? Worry about yourself. I mean, you did… well… who knows how… there could be… and… well… there might… what I mean is… well –"

"You're afraid there's brain damage," Elphaba interrupted Glinda's stammering. "I can't answer that for you. I just… don't know. There could be but I don't feel very different."

"I'd like to have a doctor take a look at you."

Elphaba stiffened. "What can a doctor determine? If the problem is how my brain is functioning how will a doctor be able to discover that unless he cuts me open and looks himself? And that I will not allow."

"The doctors have told me that there is written tests that can be administered. You know, to see at what level you can manage things like math and logic problems and the such."

"I'm not allowing myself to become some test subject for a bunch of doctors with too much time on their hands!" Elphaba snapped out. She sighed and tried to get her emotions under control. "I feel fine and if anything should happen that would suggest otherwise then I'll go to a doctor, but only then."

"Elphie… please, just let the doctors see you. If only for me?"

Elphaba shook her head and stood up, her hand slipping from Glinda's grasp. "No," she said and her voice was firm, there would be no room for argument. "Now tell me about Mirelle. Is she well? Is anything else wrong with her except her inability to walk? Did any other problem arise from that wretched day in the park?"

Glinda was silent. "How did you know that her inability to walk came forth from that day in the park?" Glinda eventually asked.

Elphaba turned questioning eyes towards the blonde. "What else would it have been from?" she replied, not expecting an answer. And as she looked at Glinda she knew that something else was amiss. Elphaba just knew that the Mirelle was no longer the same child because of what had happened that fateful day that had caused the green woman to try and end her life.

"When she woke up she was… different…," Glinda finally whispered and the blonde dropped her gaze to stare at the floor. "She is withdrawn and shy and for nearly a year she barely spoke at all. She is ashamed of herself because she cannot walk like the other children she learns and plays with. And that shame has made her terribly shy. She won't play with other children. And she won't talk about it! We've tried and tried to get her to talk but she just won't! She hates that she cannot do what the other children do!" Glinda raised grief-filled eyes to look at Elphaba's startled face. She stood up, began to pace. "And I… I don't mean to blame you… but I just… you didn't… why weren't you there!" she screamed. "Why didn't you protect her!"

Elphaba grabbed Glinda's wrist, stopped the blonde's frantic pacing, and took her distraught friend in a tight embrace. She rubbed calming circles over Glinda's back as the blonde sobbed into her friend's chest. "I'm sorry," Elphaba whispered. "I'm so very sorry."

"It's your fault!" Glinda screamed and she hit Elphaba's chest with pale fists over and over again to emphasize the words she didn't truly mean. "You didn't protect her! You didn't save her! You let her get hurt! You! You! _You_!"

Elphaba held Glinda tighter and the blonde's burst of anger faded away. They sunk to their knees together as Glinda continued to sob and cry and scream profanities and nonsense as she let her grief and fear for her daughter's life pour from her. The door opened then and Fiyero entered – where Mirelle had gone Elphaba could not say. He approached the two friends as they huddled together on the floor and kneeled down beside them.

"Glinda?" he asked quietly but the blonde just shrunk further into Elphaba's body.

"Fiyero please," Elphaba pleaded. "Don't push her."

"I'm right here!" Glinda snapped out.

"Glinda, shush," Elphaba whispered. "You're going to work yourself into a fit acting like this."

Glinda laughed harshly. "You're the one who should be worried about such a thing," she said but her voice was muffled by Elphaba's clothing and she had lost her anger and biting tone.

"Elphaba, you should rest. For Oz's sake you've been unconscious for almost two years!" Fiyero said in concern.

"_Exactly_ why I don't need to rest," Elphaba replied offhandedly. "I've gotten plenty of rest of late. I'll be fine."

"You might feel fine now but no one can say for certain if there's something… amiss."

"I'm very much aware that I shot myself in the head Fiyero and if anything should be _amiss_, as you so nicely put it, then I shall rest and only then."

"Stubborn as ever," Fiyero said and it was clear that he was frustrated so he simply stood up then. "I shall go then, and see to Mirelle."

The door was slammed shut behind him and Elphaba flinched at the anger behind Fiyero's actions but she knew she had more pressing matters to attend to; like the distraught blonde she still held in her arms. "Glinda?" Elphaba questioned.

"I don't like being talked about like I'm not here," came the muttered response and Elphaba chuckled.

"Now you know how I've often felt but that's not the issue right now."

"What _is_ the issue then?"

"Mirelle," Elphaba whispered. "And trust me, we'll sort this all out. We will."

"How?" Glinda pulled away from Elphaba's tight hold and looked up at her green friend with eyes full of grief and despair. "We have tried everything and nothing has worked! And I promised her that you would heal her but who's to say that you can?"

"I will talk to her. Mirelle is simply confused and hurting over the fact that she is stuck in that cursed chair and if all your money and good will cannot break through her wall of defense then maybe I can reach her. It is worth a try at least."

A sparkle of hope shined in Glinda's blue eyes but it was quickly replaced with guilt. "I don't want you to hurt simply to try and help a child who is not even yours."

"She calls me mother," Elphaba said with a smile. "And I accepted the responsibility of her the moment I accepted this ridiculous idea of yours to share Fiyero with you."

"There hasn't been much sharing lately."

Elphaba's face fell as she saw the pain and hurt in Glinda's eyes. "I'm sorry," Elphaba whispered, "for what I did. I shouldn't have been that weak I was just… overwhelmed with what had happened. It was wrong of me for putting you through that pain."

Glinda nodded and closed her eyes as she tried to will away the memory of that horrible day but it was overtaking her mind. "There was _so_ much blood," she muttered and it seemed like she wasn't quite aware that she was speaking out loud. "And we were with Mirelle when we heard the gun first go off… when you shot Shell. I was scared Elphie. So, so very scared!" She opened her eyes then and fresh tears had welled in them, threatening to spill. "I came running then but I just… I wasn't fast enough! You shot yourself with me right there! I was _right_ _there_! I saw you do it! I saw everything! The blood was _everywhere_! And it wouldn't stop! And you were just crumpled on the floor all green and still and… and dead! We thought you were dead! For a few moments there wasn't even a pulse ! Just cold skin and blood and lifelessness!"

Elphaba nodded. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I never meant… I just… I wasn't thinking right."

"Fiyero said you always wanted to die."

"Maybe…" Elphaba said with a sigh. "Maybe I did… maybe I didn't… maybe I just had no clue of what I wanted."

"But now you do?"

"I want to be here," Elphaba said and her voice was suddenly strong and full of conviction. "I want to share what is left of my life with you and Fiyero and little Mirelle. I want to create a family for Mirelle that I never got the chance to have growing up. I want to be… to be loved. And I have that here Glinda but I never saw it because I was afraid, terrified really, of losing it. But I won't lose it, not unless I make myself lose it, which I almost did with that gun. And I realize that now. I was foolish and full of bitter pain and I was… wrong."

Glinda was stunned; she didn't know what to say. She looked at Elphaba in concern because even though she desperately wanted to believe in the words her friend was saying she found it hard to let the hope bubble up inside of her because Elphaba had said such things before, had projected being hopeful like this before, only to have her resolve crumble. Elphaba had simply lied far too many times in her past to allow Glinda to believe the words that seemed so truthful and honest. It was too hard for the blonde, far too hard, to give herself over to hope and happiness when she knew that, with Elphaba, it would not last – it never lasted.

"I want to believe you," Glinda whispered as she stared into brown eyes. "But I can't. Not after everything we have been through. Not after all the times you've promised such things before and never lived up to it. I just cannot believe that you want to get better, that you will let yourself feel happiness, because you've said it before and never followed through. I'm sorry Elphie but… I just don't believe you."

Elphaba nodded; she understood. "Then let me show you," she whispered, "let me have one more chance at this, please."


	41. Chapter Forty

_**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay. I had dance festival, and I've worked mad overtime at work for the last month (we're short two people – __my bank account is happy, my body hates me) and then I got Strep Throat. So that's my excuse. Sorry but hope you enjoy this chapter!_

_Also, this chapter has a brief reference to my short story "__Confessions"__. Reading "__Confessions"__ isn't necessary but it might be a good idea *hint hint*  
_

--

_Elphaba nodded; she understood. "Then let me show you," she whispered, "let me have one more chance at this, please."_

--

**Chapter Forty:**

"You should rest."

Elphaba started at Glinda's sudden voice and spun around to face the blonde woman at her door. "No," she replied, more forcefully than she intended. Her exhaustion and frustration had made her quick to anger and short on patience.

"You've been locked in here for hours, and that's just today. Please Elphie, come and eat with us, just this once?"

"No!" Elphaba turned her back on Glinda and refused to even acknowledge the blonde's presence.

"But –"

"I'm so close," Elphaba muttered as she scribbled more notes on the piece of parchment before her, flipped through the Grimmerie's blood-stained pages. "The answer is right there, just within my reach. Why can't I find it! Why won't the answer appear to me like it has so many times before! The spell I used for Nessa was just there! Why isn't it like that this time! Why?" Elphaba slammed her fist down at the table she stood at, the table she had made Glinda have moved into her room for the only purpose of trying to help little Mirelle walk again.

Glinda approached Elphaba cautiously, afraid of her green friend's short temper. "Elphie… please… you _need_ to rest. You're exhausted, I can see it in the way you carry yourself, and being exhausted is not going to help the answer come to you. Please… for us?"

Elphaba did not take her eyes off the strange language that decorated the Grimmerie's pages. "Leave me!" she spat out. "Now!"

Glinda knew when arguing with Elphaba had become a moot point so she simply took her leave. Elphaba hardly even noticed Glinda's depature for she was simply far too focused on the task at hand. But as the seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes turned to hours, her vision began to spin and her focus fled her. The ink on the Grimmerie's pages danced before her eyes and she could no longer make out the forgein words that had once, in her youth, come so easily to her. Now she struggled with each letter, struggled to find the meaning behind each word. With age her natural skill in sorcery had fled her somewhat and she found that in order to perform the spells that had once been second-nature to her she had to understand the meaning behind their words. It was draining, both mentally and physically, and left her exhausted.

But still she trudged on. The hours passed her by and for days she had stood at that damned desk, and for days she had been frustrated at herself for her lack in ability. The answer to Mirelle's inability to walk laid within the Grimmerie, she knew it did, but for some reason she could not find it. It was right there, she could feel it, but it was simply just out of her reach.

In a fit of anger, driven by her exhaustion and frustration, Elphaba reached for the knife she had used to cut the few slivers of fruit she had eaten over the last few days. Its tip drove into her inner arm, drew blood and a sharp hiss from her mouth. She dragged it up her arm, ignoring the lack of her right hand because the reality still stung her too deeply to truly face. The blood pooled up from her self-inflicted wound and slid down the side of her arm. She pulled the knife from her arm then drove it back in, dragged another wound down her arm. She pulled it out again, poised it against her yellow-tinged green skin, but before she could do the deed once again she finally realized what she was doing and stopped suddenly. The knife shook in her hand as she stared at her now bloodied arm.

She dropped the knife and the sound it made as it struck the floor seemed to echo around her, overwhelming her, mocking her. She felt her breath catch in her throat and the tears nearly break through her control. But she swallowed back her emotions and tried to get herself under control again.

She couldn't.

She fled her room. The door slammed behind her and she ran down the twisting hallways of the palace until she came to a sudden stop at the entrance of the dining room. Fiyero, Glinda, and Mirelle all looked up at her in both shock and concern.

"I'm sorry!" Elphaba blurted out but she wasn't quite sure what she was apologizing for. Was it for ignoring them all the past few days? Was it for being so quick to anger? Was it for hurting herself? Was it for hurting them? She didn't know, she just knew that she had to apologize.

"Elphie," Glinda whispered in concern as she slowly stood up. "Elphie, are you well?"

"I know I shouldn't have done it!" Elphaba continued to blurt out as she found herself unable to control the words tumbling from her mouth. "I don't know what overcame me! I shouldn't have been so weak! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Whatever are you talking about?" Glinda asked as she approached her distraught friend. "I don't under–"

"This!" Elphaba screamed as she thrust out her wounded and bloodied arm. "I never! I just! I didn't mean! I'm so sorry!"

A weak "Oh," was all that escaped Glinda's mouth for a few brief moments. "Is that all?" she asked quietly. "I mean, it's not good, in any way," Glinda quickly ammended when she saw Elphaba's confused face. "I just, its nothing you've never done before."

Elphaba nodded and dropped her arm to her side. "It's just… this time… this time I feel so damned guilty! I shouldn't have done it! And I just, it was wrong, and I… I… I don't know what I wanted to achieve by coming to you. I just… I felt that I should. Is that wrong?"

"No," Glinda said with a smile. "Now come on, let us get you cleaned up, okay?"

Elphaba nodded and let Glinda take her hand, led her from the dining room. They returned to her room, with the disaster of papers upon her desk, and Glinda took her green friend into her private bathing room. Elphaba perched herself down on the edge of the counter as Glinda fished through the drawers to find cleaning oils and a cloth. When she had she sat herself down beside Elphaba and took her friend's bloodied arm in her grasp. It didn't take long for Glinda to clean away the blood and thankfully Elphaba's wounds, though long, were not particularly deep. They would heal on their own just fine – leaving, at most, only a faint scar behind.

"I'm glad you came to us," Glinda said as she folded the now blood-stained cloth up and set it on the counter behind her. "I'm glad you didn't try to hide this from us."

"I can't fix her," Elphaba muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Mirelle… I can't fix her. I'm… I'm just not that strong anymore. Nessa was a fluke. Mirelle will not be. That's why I did it. I was frustrated, with myself, with my failures. I know you expect me to fix her but I just… I _can't_."

"It hasn't even been a week yet, give it time."

"You're holding on to a hope that isn't there."

"I thought you would try harder!" Glinda snapped out, suddenly angry at how easily Elphaba had let herself become defeated.

"I am trying!" Elphaba retorted, her voice just as cold and calculating as Glinda's had been. "But all the effort in the world cannot make up for the fact that I am a failure!"

"You're not a failure!"

"You just don't want to believe that because you don't want to have to face the fact that Mirelle is never going to walk again!"

Glinda slid off the counter and faced her friend. "You can't give up! It's too soon! It's too damn soon!"

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do!"

"But you _can_ do this! I know you can! Please! You must believe me! You must continue to try!"

"Stop! Stop trying to make me into this higher being that can save everyone! I cannot even save myself! How can you think that I would be able to save anyone else? _How_?" Elphaba's voice was choked now as she desperately tried to keep her tears at bay. Her anger was fading away into despair and guilt. "Can't you see what this is doing to me?" she whispered. "This is tearing me apart. This… to know that at one point in my life I could have fixed her… it's devestating. Please Glinda… don't put this horrible responsibility on me. Can't you see that it will kill me?"

"With a great gift comes a great responsibility! I can't give this responsibility onto anyone else because you're the only one who can do it!"

"But I cannot!"

"Yes you can!"

"Responsibility crushes me! Responsibility kills me! I cannot handle the pressure! Please Glinda! Please! Let it go! Let me have this chance to live my life!"

"She's just as much your daughter as mine! Or do you not belive that? Do you just not care about her? Is that it Elphie! Do you not give a shit about her!"

"Of course I do!" Elphaba finally stood up and approached Glinda. "Don't you dare tell me that I do not care for her! Mirelle is everything to me! Mirelle is –"

"Your new Nessa, isn't she?" Glinda interrupted, suddenly quiet. "Is that why you cannot fix her? Is it because, deep down, she is now the Nessa you lost? The sister you could not save?"

Elphaba's jaw slackened, her eyes widened, and she stared at Glinda in overwhelming shock. "How… how could you accuse me? How… _dare you_!" Elphaba shrieked, her whole body trembling in anger. She stormed from the bathing room, leaving behind a stunned Glinda.

Glinda took in a shaking breath and rubbed her temples in frustration. "Elphie…" she muttered to the empty room. "How can I make you see that you can do this? How can I make you see that you really are strong enough?"

Suddenly a hand was on Glinda's arm and the blonde was forcefully turned around to find herself face to face with a furious Elphaba. "I'm not strong!" she screamed and Glinda flinched at the anger and self-loathing she heard in her friends voice. "And maybe if you would just leave me be I would be able to find the answer! This responsibility is suffocating! This pressure is dibilitating! Please! Let me work it out in my own time! Let me find the answer when the answer comes to me!"

"You're hurting me," Glinda whimpered.

Elphaba's anger faded from her eyes instantly and she quickly let go of Glinda's arm. "Sorry," she muttered as she averted her eyes to the ground. She looked ashamed.

Glinda rubbed the tender part of her arm that Elphaba had grabbed so tightly. "It's okay," she said. "I understand that your upset."

"Just give me space… please. Perhaps in time I will find the answer but I must do it at my own pace. Can you give me that? Can you trust me enough to give me this responsibility and then let me figure it out myself?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Elphaba shrugged.

"You're the only one with the chance to fix her," Glinda continued. "I have no choice. I cannot argue with you. Just please, don't give up."

Elphaba nodded.

"Why won't you answer me?"

Silence. Elphaba let out a heavy sigh. "I… I just… I don't… I'm afraid that… I might cry," she choked out.

Glinda took a green hand in her own. "You're just tired, you need to rest. Fatigue makes one's emotions run rampart. Come on, it's nearly night fall anyways, is it not?"

Elphaba nodded. She let Glinda lead her to her bed. She let Glinda help her slide underneath the sheets. She let Glinda crawl in beside her. She let Glinda pull her close so her back met the blonde's chest. She let Glinda drap an arm over her body and hold gently onto her trembling hand.

"Liir was here."

Elphaba stiffened at Glinda's words. She felt the vomit lurch up into her mouth and she barely had the self-control to swallow it back. "He was _what_?" she choked out.

"He was here, in this home, when your were unconcious for all that time."

"Where is he?"

"He has gone. Gone back to the Vinkus, or so he said."

"Why? Why did he come here?" Elphaba whispered, almost as if she was talking to herself. "What purpose did he mean to achieve?"

"His daughter wanted to meet her grandparents."

"_His what_?" Elphaba shrieked as she rolled over to face Glinda directly.

"His daughter. His _green_ daughter."

"_His what_?" Elphaba vaulted from the bed, began to pace. "He has a daughter! _I_ have a grandchild! This is… this is unfathomable! This is… unthinkable!"

"He _had_ a child," Glinda whispered as she sat up; clutching the bedding close to her chest for some sense of protection. "She was murdered, stoned to death in fact, by nearly half the Emerald City. They were afraid of her. Afraid because she was green. Afraid because you are green."

"_They what_!"

"Fiyero didn't want to tell you. He was afraid that it would… send you over the edge, so to say. But you should know, you have a right to know. And I don't like keeping secrets from you."

"I had a granddaughter," Elphaba muttered as she continued to pace; frantic. "I had a granddaughter and I never even got the chance to see her. What fresh torture is this? What have I done to cause the Unnamed God to cast such punishment and pain upon me? I never did anything wrong! I have only tried to do right!"

"Elphie… please… I don't like it when you get frantic like this."

Elphaba stopped her pacing to stare at Glinda. "Then maybe you shouldn't have told me then!"

"Would you rather have not known?"

"Yes!"

"Truly?"

"_Yes_!"

"But why?"

Elphaba fell silent and simply stood, shaking her head slightly, in the middle of her room. "I can't… I don't… it doesn't… why?" she whimpered. "Glinda, why? What did I do to deserve this? What did _she_ do to deserve her fate?"

"Come back to bed," Glinda instructed quietly, her tone soothing. "Please."

Elphaba found that she could not resist Glinda's orders. She crawled back into bed and Glinda once again wrapped her arm around her green friend's shaking body. "Her name was Aelyne," she whispered. "She was not much older than Mirelle."

"That seems strange, that my grandaughter would be the same age as your daughter."

"Our daughter."

"Stop saying that."

"You know it's true, so why should we hide it? I know you fear responsibility, I know you fear failing, but you're not going to fail… not this time."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do."

"Glinda please, just… just stop, okay? For just a moment."

"You're tired."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, for putting this pressure on you. I didn't mean to. I only –"

"Enough!" Elphaba snapped out. "Please, just… it's enough already. I understand what you expect from me, I understand what you want, so just stop telling me the same damn thing over and over again!"

Silence fell over the two friends for many long minutes. "Sorry," Glinda eventually muttered. "I didn't mean –"

"Just stop right there," Elphaba interrupted and her tone was biting; acid. "Stop before I hurt you."

Glinda fell silent once again and in time her breathing began to fall into a shallow and even rhythm. Elphaba gently slid out from under the blonde's thin arm and pulled the thick blankets over Glinda's body – tucked her friend in tightly. She smiled, just barely, as she watched Glinda sleeping beneath her bedding, in her bed, and remembering when she had watched the blonde sleeping back in their days at Shiz – in their shared dorm.

_I love her_.

The realization struck Elphaba hard and fast; sent her stomach twisting in on itself. She bolted from the room and ran down the hall to find another bathing room. When she found one of the public bathing rooms she ducked inside and collapsed near the commode. The vomit choked her as it forced her way from her body. It wasn't long before she managed to get herself under control and she curled up on the cold tile floor, clutching her stomach to relieve the pain.

To love another woman was wrong, she knew that. To love someone, to truly love them, when they were the same gender as her was disgustingly filthy. But still, the feeling was there and she could not will it away. It was love in every sense of the word. This was no fleeting feeling, this was no platonic love built from friendship. This was true, deep love. This was a connection she had shared with only Fiyero before. To have such a feeling for Glinda now sent her mind reeling. She simply did not know what to do.

"Fae?"

"I have always loved her," Elphaba whispered as Fiyero knelt down beside her. "I think."

"Who?"

"Glinda. Since, since Shiz. Since that day we sat side by side on her bed. That day she kissed me and blamed the whiskey. I've loved her and been too afraid to let myself realize such a thing."

Fiyero helped her sit up and they scooted backwards so that their backs rested against the wall. Elphaba rested her head on his shoulder.

"You don't seem surprised," she observed.

"I'm not." Fiyero's hand came to Elphaba's scarred arm and traced the fresh wounds she had dug into her skin that day. To his surprise she did not pull away, even as his fingers gently brushed over the nub that remained where her hand should be.

"The pain dulls in time, doesn't work like it used to," Elphaba murmured as her eyes slid shut, "and soon you find yourself becoming a slave to it… desperate for it to work again but it never does." It seemed as if she was talking to herself, as if she was unaware that Fiyero was listening to every word she said. But she knew he was there, beside her, touching her, she just chose to ignore that fact because it made speaking so terribly easier.

"There were so many men," Elphaba continued. "So many. It makes my head ache to think of them. And I wonder how I can still find the strength within myself to love anyone else. Yet here I sit, loving you and now… Glinda. Is that wrong? Is this wrong? Is loving another woman wrong? Is this relationship, you with two women and both of us with the same man, wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong unless you make it wrong. What you believe is right is right, in your own eyes."

"That's what people say to justify their wrong actions. I can guarantee you that my father told himself the same thing."

"Does it matter? If this feels right to you then does that matter? Are you content with your life as it is? I am. And that is all that matters to me."

"I was once told that those that are strong enough to endure the pain are made to suffer so that others can come to understand how important and cherished their happiness and joy should be."

Fiyero realized that Elphaba was darting around his questions, trying not to answer what he doubted she even had an answer to. But he let it go, instead choosing to humour her. "Who told you such a thing?"

"I believe it was you, if memory serves correct, back at Shiz. Or perhaps in the Emerald City. Who knows?" She shrugged then, but the action was half-hearted. "That time in my life seems so long ago and sometimes it all runs together… is indistinguishable."

"You realize that such a statement means that you are strong, does it not?"

"If you believe in such a thing."

"And do you?"

"I was raped. Hundreds of times over, by both men and women. And I am still alive, am I not? I am still here, even after my many attempts at changing such a fact. I am here, breathing, alive."

"I don't know if I want to hear about this anymore."

"I don't care," Elphaba snapped out, and it was the most emotion she had put into the words she had said to Fiyero thus far. "I need to speak, and you are here, so you will simply have to listen."

"Sorry."

"Sometimes we have to listen to things we don't want to. Sometimes we have to hear words that hurt for us to heal. You have told me many things that have hurt me but that I needed to hear. And now I need to talk. To heal this time I need to talk. And I'm sorry that you are the one to listen but that is just the way it is. Please, forgive me for this, but I must tell you what needs to be said."

"It's quite alright. Talk Fae, and I will listen."

She nodded and continued. "My pain still lingers with me because I never dealt with it. As a child I hid my pain away because I didn't want my little sister and brother to see that I was hurting. I felt I had to be strong, that I had to pretend I was perfectly fine, but the truth is that it isn't weak to ask for help. In fact, it shows that you are strong. To be able to admit to your faults and weaknesses and need for help speaks of a much stronger person then one who puts on a mask and lets herself rot away from the inside out."

"What has got into you my dear Fabala? You are speaking as if you understand, for once, what me and Glinda have tried so long to tell you."

"I do. This time, I think I do understand."

"You still need help though."

"I know," Elphaba muttered and her voice was choked now as she tried to prevent herself from crying. "I… I'm afraid though. Afraid that it's too late. Afraid that this great revelation of mine has simply come too late."

"I don't believe it's too late."

"I'm glad someone does."

"I think Glinda would believe the same thing."

"Sometimes I wish I would never wake up." A few tears escaped Elphaba's control and tried to ignore the stinging burn the salty water caused on her skin. "And when I do sleep all I can remember his them, and the feeling of them. The smell, the sounds, the touch." She shivered. "It's one of the reasons I cannot sleep. They become a mass of terror and pain in my mind that tortures me, hurts me."

"I know, I have been there before. I have seen you wake up screaming and sweating and utterly terrified… trapped in your own horrible nightmares. It hurts me to see you like that and one day I hope you will not have to suffer like that anymore."

She sighed. "It may be too late for me but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. Because that's all I can do, right? Is try."

"That's true."

"I can never stop trying because the day I stop trying is the day he wins, the day they win, and I cannot let that happen. A part of me wants to get better, to be happy, if only to spite them. To prove to them that they never broke me beyond repair. But that's silly because I will never see those men again and I will never be able to prove to them that they were not able to keep me down."

"You can prove it to yourself. And to us."

"I guess that's something."

"I think it's a pretty big something," Fiyero replied with a small chuckle.

"So do I."

Elphaba started at Glinda's voice and snapped her eyes opened to see Glinda standing at the doorway. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice quiet and laced with anger. She was uncertain how long Glinda had been standing there and the prospect that her blonde friend had heard what she had said to Fiyero scared her – though she didn't know why.

"I woke up and was afraid when I realized that you had left. I was afraid, after I told you about Liir, that you might have gone and done something not so incredibly smart."

Fiyero stiffened at Glinda's mention of having told Elphaba about her son but the green woman ignored him. "How long have you been standing there, watching us?" she asked, suspicious.

"Long enough."

Elphaba stood up, she was angry at having her privacy interrupted like this. "Do you not trust me alone with Fiyero? Do you think I simply came to him for sex?"

Glinda's face fell. "No," she said, far too quickly. "I just… I didn't… well… I just… I don't know why I came!" she eventually blurted out. "I don't mean to make you upset, that I _do_ know!" Glinda rubbed her temples in frustration. "Why is it that every time I talk to you you get me all flustered like this? I'm not out to harm you!"

Elphaba sighed and turned her back to Glinda. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I just… I didn't want you to hear what I said."

"Fiyero can hear your story but not me?"

"Glinda, it's complicated. Please, try to understand."

"Stop fighting," Fiyero said as he stood up. "I don't like it when you two fight. I don't want it to get physical, like it has before."

"Go," Elphaba said quietly, "and leave us be."

"But Fae –"

"Go!"

Fiyero knew when was not welcomed and left, though reluctantly, to let the two friends sort through their emotions together, alone. Glinda closed the door behind him, effectively looking Elphaba in the public bathing room for if the green woman wanted to leave she would have to get passed Glinda to get to the door.

"Did you really mean what you said to him?" Glinda asked.

"About what?" Elphaba spat out. Her back was still facing Glinda so she didn't see the hopeful look in the blonde's eyes.

"Everything."

Silence. "It doesn't matter."

"I think it does."

"You should go."

Glinda was suddenly concerned by how quiet and choked Elphaba's voice sounded. She walked towards her friend and stood beside her, took her green hand in her own. "Elphie… are you crying?"

The green woman pulled her hand from Glinda's hold and fled the bathing room, ran down the hall and passed a shocked Fiyero, to hide herself in her private quarters. She locked her door, stumbled to her bed, and collapsed onto the soft mattress. She buried her head in her pillow and clutched her sheets as she desperately choked back her sobs and tried not to let her tears escape. There was a knock on the door and then Elphaba heard the shuffling of keys in a lock. She wondered what the point of having a lock on her door was if Glinda and Fiyero had the key.

Elphaba could tell it was Glinda who entered when her bed barely shifted as the blonde sat down beside her. Glinda didn't say a word as she laid a hand on Elphaba's shoulder and felt the green woman trembling beneath her touch.

"Leave," Elphaba said but her voice was muffled by the pillow and lacked any strength to it.

"I'm proud of you," Glinda said, "for talking to him of your own accord."

Elphaba let out a heavy sigh and rolled over slightly so she could look at Glinda. The blonde wasn't looking at her; she was staring out the window but not really registering what she was seeing.

"I knew it would be hard," Elphaba whispered and Glinda looked down to meet Elphaba's eyes. "I just didn't realize _how_ hard. I never did get over it, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself I did."

Glinda nodded and laid a hand on Elphaba's cheek. "I'm still proud of you."

"I never got any closure from my father," Elphaba blurted out. She closed her eyes. "And, in the end, I think it is his torture that has scarred me so."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because he was supposed to protect me. He was supposed to love me, care for me, raise me. The other men, Avaric and his friends, Letozay and his paying customers, are just the bad seeds of this world. They hurt me, yes, and the pain still lingers within me but their scars are fainter for they were never supposed to help me. From the moment I laid eyes on them I knew they were there only to hurt me and I hated them for that." Elphaba opened her eyes and Glinda saw the tears pooling in them. "I loved my father. I still love my father, even for all the pain he caused me. And if my own father could not love me back how could anyone else?"

"It was never your fault."

"Somewhere within me I know that but it's hard Glinda… it's _so_ hard to believe that." Elphaba sat up, turned her head to stare out the window at the Emerald City in its green entirety. "There's always this voice that sits in my head," she muttered, "that screams at me, that tells me that there must be some inheritably wrong with me for such pain to be thrust upon me time and time again."

Glinda shuffled closer to Elphaba and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, over her chest, and rested her chin on a green, boney shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"Except my green skin."

"I love your green skin, and so does Fiyero."

"I wish I could love myself as much as you seem to love me."

Glinda was startled for a moment before she regained her composure. "You will, in time."

"I'm in my forties Glinda, we both are. It's too late for such a thing now. It's too late for me, don't you see that?"

"You told Fiyero that you would never stop trying. That if we stop trying then all those people that hurt us win. You don't want that, do you?"

"They won a long time ago."

"Oh, Elphie…"

A green hand came up to rest on Glinda's arm. "Thank you," Elphaba suddenly said. "For… for letting me come here, letting me live here, letting my have another chance at being someone other than a green witch whore."

"You're welcome," Glinda replied.

"And for sharing Fiyero with me."

"You're welcome," Glinda repeated but her voice had become quieter in thought. "I never thought of you as a witch," she muttered offhandedly. "Even for all the powers that you've shown me, and the world, I still never thought of you as a witch. Or a whore. Or someone unworthy of love. I have always thought of you as Elphie, and nothing else. Even in the darkest hours of your life… even in the months leading up to Dorothy's melting of you. You were always Elphie to me. Just Elphie, my roomie from Shiz. No matter what the rumours said of you. You were just Elphie, my Elphie."

Elphaba smiled slightly. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It _is_ a compliment!" Glinda squealed and she pulled Elphaba sideways. They fell into a crumpled heap together on the bed and Glinda began to tickle Elphaba in an effort to lighten the mood. The green woman cried out in protest as Glinda attacked her sides and armpits with deft fingers.

Fiyero heard Elphaba and Glinda giggling and laughing from within Elphaba's room and he slowly opened the door, stood in the doorway and watched with a smile as Glinda was clearly winning the impromptu tickling match. He was glad to hear Elphaba laughing so freely, it had been so long since he had heard her be so joyful.

Elphaba noticed Fiyero watching and she grabbed Glinda's hand to get the blonde's attention and nodded towards the door. Glinda turned around to see Fiyero and then shared a knowing look with Elphaba.

Fiyero mocked horror as the two grown room leapt from the bed and attacked him. They dragged him back to the bed, threw him down on the soft bedding, and set to tickling him. With her one hand Elphaba was not exactly as apt at the tickling technique as Glinda was so she settled for straddling the dark-skinned Vinkus prince and keeping him trapped as Glinda tickled him mercilessly. He squirmed and squealed and half-heartedly tried to stop the two women attacking him.

It did not take long before Glinda and Elphaba had torn Fiyero's clothes from his body before removing their own. Glinda had to make a conscious effort to not let her gaze stray on Elphaba's scarred body for long but even the short time she had looked drew Elphaba's attention. The green woman took Glinda's hand in her own and leaned close to Glinda's ear. The blonde could feel Elphaba's hot breath against her ear as she spoke.

"It's alright to look," Elphaba whispered and her breathe was husky with love and desire for what was close to occurring with the man they both shared their love with. She brought Glinda's hand to her stomach where the severe burn she had suffered so many years ago when she lived above the abandoned corn exchange had left a series of large, mutilating scars over her stomach. The scars she had once gouged into her skin, the words marking her as a whore and a murderer, were faint beneath the burn scars but if one looked closely enough they could still be made out.

Glinda's pale fingers traced over the green scars and her gentle touch elicited a sharp hiss from Elphaba; her hand froze. "It's okay," Elphaba whispered and her mouth was still dangerously close to Glinda's ear. She guided Glinda's hand down her body; let it graze against her thigh where it was now Glinda's turn to inhale sharply at what she felt there. The blonde dropped her gaze to see the layers upon layers of small knife-scars that decorated Elphaba's naked thighs and told anyone who saw her bare skin that she had once been forced to sell her body to survive in the cruelty that had been her life for so very long.

Fiyero laid his hands on top of Elphaba's and Glinda's and gently pulled the green and pale white puzzle of fingers from Elphaba's scarred thighs and painful past. No words were spoken between the three friends; just small smiles and the soft look in their eyes of understanding – of acceptance.

They became one upon the soft mattress; three old friends, three wounded adults, finding love together in the comfort of their warm bodies and familiar faces. No judgments were made, no painful memories relived, and no accusations uttered. Green and brown and white became a twisted picture of friendship and love and desire. There was a pain that lingered in both women's hearts for the simple fact that Fiyero was not wholly their's but they had come to accept that pain for they knew it was a sacrifice that they were willing to make to allow the other woman, their friend, to be loved.

And that was all the three wounded adults wanted – to be loved.


	42. Chapter Forty One

_And that was all the three wounded adults wanted – to be loved._

--

**Chapter Forty-One:**

"I love you."

Glinda dropped the glass of wine she held and it fell to the floor, shattered upon the balcony's stones and spilled against her shoes – staining them. The blonde stared at Elphaba in utter shock, realizing the depth of love in which her friend spoke of.

"I know it's wrong," Elphaba continued and though her voice was quiet, shaking even, there was a strength there that could not be denied. "I know it's immoral and improper and you most likely think I am disgusting for it but I cannot help the way I feel. I love you, like I should not, and that is simply the way it is."

"But… but what about Fiyero?" Glinda stammered out. "Do you not –"

"I love him too," Elphaba interrupted as she stepped forward and took Glinda's trembling hand in her own. "I love him just the same. But he… he has seen… and he knows… and he was there, in the Emerald City… and it just… it is not the same. There is something different with you. Something that calms my soul in a way that Fiyero cannot."

"I don't understand," Glinda admitted.

"I don't know if you can."

"A woman should not love another woman, it is –"

"Wrong? Disgusting? Filthy? There are many words to describe what it is but it can also just be described as it is – love. Is that really so wrong? It is just love, no matter our genders."

"But it doesn't –"

"You were the one who kissed me first, or do you not remember? Back at Shiz, in our old dorm room, after the time Avaric tried to rape you. It was before he had raped me, remember? And there was the whiskey I gave you, and you blamed your actions on it."

Glinda closed her eyes and took in a shaking breath. She felt the sun warm her skin as she tried to remember the time Elphaba spoke of – as she tried to remember so far back into her past. "I do," she eventually whispered. "But I was young and silly and simply wanted to see what it was like. I used you as an experiment, someone to try it on because I knew you would not risk exposing the truth behind what I had done. "

"I know that. I know that I was simply a tool for your own experimental games but that was the start, for me at least. And it grew from that. Every time you smiled at me, every time you held me, every time you did not look away in disgust was a time that my love grew. I just… I was afraid. Afraid of the truth. Afraid that you would think of me as filth for feeling as I did. So I forced myself to ignore my own emotions, as I have so many times before, but now – as we live together, as I feel as safe as I do – I cannot hide away any longer. I love you, and I simply wanted to tell you."

Glinda kept her eyes closed and backed away from Elphaba, let her hand slip from the green woman's grasp. "You shouldn't have told me," she muttered. "This changes everything."

"You're the one you has always been the advocate for speaking the truth, for not keeping secrets." Elphaba's voice was shaking terribly now; desperate. "And nothing has changed. I have felt like this towards you for a very long time, why should the truth change anything?"

"_This_ truth changes everything."

"How!"

"Because this love is wrong."

"Fiyero wouldn't say that!"

"Fiyero also grew up in a land where corporal punishment towards children was common! He knows not what is truly right and wrong!"

"What is wrong is only what you believe to be wrong. Fiyero was right. If you believe your actions are right then what else matters?"

"That's what people say to justify their wrong actions!"

"That is true. But to them their actions are right. I'm tired of living my life within society's rules for I will never fit into society so what is the point in trying? The only way to be happy in this world is to make your own rules… or so I've come to realize. This is my life, these are my emotions, this is how I feel. Take it as you will but I love you, and nothing you say or do can change that."

"But –"

"I don't expect you to love me back, I don't expect our relationship to change," Elphaba quickly interrupted, trying to explain herself. "In fact, I don't want it to change. I like what we have I just… I couldn't keep this secret any longer."

"I need you to go," Glinda whispered. "Please, I need to think about this. I need to sort this all out."

Elphaba nodded and left then, before Glinda had even opened her eyes. Glinda stood on the balcony, the cool hair teasing her hair, and listened to Elphaba's footsteps as she crossed the large foyer and finally fell out of hearing range. Silence. It surrounded Glinda and all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.

She was shocked. She didn't know why for she had always had an inclination that Elphaba held feelings of more than just friendship towards her. Perhaps it was just the fact that her dear green friend had actually told her, had actually admitted to it, that was the reason behind why she felt like she could not breathe.

Then she realized that she _wasn't_ breathing. Her eyes snapped open, her hands shot out to clench the balcony railing in desperation, and she struggled to breathe. But her chest felt heavy, and the world begun to spin around her, and no matter how desperate she was to breathe her body would not listen to her.

Suddenly Elphaba was there – called back to Glinda's side by a feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach that had appeared out of nowhere. She took Glinda's hand in her own, squeezed it tightly, and led the shaking blonde inside the foyer. She sat Glinda down and kneeled down in front of her.

"Breathe," Elphaba said and it was more of an order than a suggestion. "You must breathe, okay?"

Glinda tried, yet again, to command her body to breathe but her lungs would simply not work. Black dots appeared in her vision, obscuring her view of Elphaba, and panic grew inside of her. Her chest heaved but no air would enter her lungs. Then suddenly sound fled her and her sight went black. The lack of air sent her spinning into unconsciousness and her body slumped forward. Elphaba was forced to catch Glinda's limp body to prevent the blonde from crumpling to the ground.

She laid Glinda on the floor, pillowed her friend's head with a cushion from the chair that Glinda had just been sitting in, and placed long green fingers against a pale neck. The pulse beneath Glinda's skin was rushed but steady; slowing becoming calmer as Glinda's unconscious body began to breathe again. Elphaba let out a sigh of relief as she came to realize that Glinda had had nothing more than a panic attack – something that Elphaba herself understood far too well.

But still, Elphaba could not shake away her shock. Glinda had always been so very calm, so very in control of herself, that to see her blonde friend having a panic attack unnerved her. Glinda was her rock, was the constant in her life, and if Glinda was finally cracking Elphaba feared that she would not be able to hold up their relationship on her own. It was a terrifying thought, to be the responsible one, and she didn't believe that she _could_ be the responsible one.

So, with her mind in turmoil, Elphaba sat herself down on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, and shifted Glinda so that the blonde's head rest against her lap. She absentmindedly ran her hand through blonde curls and studied how her green skin stood out so strangely against her friend's hair. She waited for Glinda to wake up and thankfully she did not have to wait long – Glinda woke up a mere eight minutes later.

"Elphie?" Glinda muttered as her eyes fluttered open. "Elphie… what happened?"

"You had a panic attack, nothing more."

"I couldn't breathe."

"That comes with panic attacks, I should know."

"You told me you loved me, didn't you? Or was that all a bad dream? Please tell me it was a bad dream Elphie, please."

Elphaba turned her head to stare at the chair beside them and let out a heavy breath. "No Glinda, it wasn't."

"But why, why would you say such a thing?"

"Oh Glinda, my little pretty flower. Don't you remember our days at Shiz?" Elphaba ran her hand through Glinda's hair slowly, in comfort. "I tried to push those thoughts away, I tried to bury my feelings for so long. But I just… I can't. Don't you see? Those days were nothing more than a sexual experiment for you. But, but for me it meant so much more."

"You always tried to stop me, remember?" Glinda said with a small chuckle; reminiscing. "I was always so persistent, wasn't I?"

"You were often drunk as well."

"I just wanted to make you happy."

"And you did."

"I don't love you Elphie, not like you love me. I… I'm not like that. I wasn't raised like that."

"Neither was I, yet here I am. I cannot help how I feel."

"And I cannot make myself feel like you do."

"I never intended for you to feel like I do. I did not intend to try and guilt you into loving me."

Glinda slowly sat up, taking Elphaba's hand in her own, and looked at the side of her green friend's face. "Where do we go from here?" she quietly asked. "Elphie, please, you must have an answer. You always have an answer."

"Not this time," Elphaba whispered. "Not this time."

Glinda nodded, understanding. "Can you at least look at me? Or does that hurt you too much now?"

Elphaba turned her head to face Glinda. "Looking at you could never hurt me," she replied with a sad smile. "You must surely know that by now."

"I want to stay friends Elphie. And this relationship we share with Fiyero, I'm okay with that. But you and I… I just can't do that. It's not like it was back at Shiz. I'm not the same silly girl with too much time on her hands. Please, try to understand that."

"I do."

"I'm glad."

Elphaba blinked rapidly to hold back her tears and forced herself to smile through her sadness. "It will be okay. Everything is going to be okay, I promise you that."

"Everything?" Glinda asked hopefully; speaking of her daughter.

"I think that… that, yes. Soon, very soon."

"How soon?"

"Soon. That is all I shall say on the matter."

Glinda smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Truly?" she asked breathlessly. "Truly, truly?"

"Truly."

"Oh, oh Elphie!" Glinda squealed as she swallowed her green friend in a tight embrace. "I knew you could do it! I just knew it!"

"I haven't done anything yet," Elphaba tried to counter. "Please, try to keep your excitement in check until I have actually fixed her."

"But you just said –"

"I think I might have found a way. But the Grimmerie is hard for me to read now, it's not as easy as it once was. But soon I will try, when I get the last few details straightened out."

"Soon then," Glinda stammered out. "Soon then. And it will all be as it once was. It will all be right then."

"Hopefully," Elphaba whispered. "Hopefully I will succeed in this. For Mirelle. At least for her."

Glinda pulled away from Elphaba and nodded. "I'm glad then, for this. This is happy news indeed!"

"It seems like that, for now at least."

Glinda smiled through her tears of joy. "We should go," she said. "To eat. If you want. I'm hungry."

"I shall try," Elphaba replied and she stood up, offered a hand out and Glinda took it. The blonde was still unsteady on her feet from her panic attack and Elphaba kept her hand on Glinda's arm to keep her steady.

"It will be okay," Elphaba said with a small smile. "This time, I think it will all be okay."


	43. Chapter Forty Two

_"It will be okay," Elphaba said with a small smile. "This time, I think it will all be okay."_

--

**Chapter Forty-Two:**

The room was quiet, the window open, and the warm air flowed in. Elphaba stood near the bed, a table set in front of her, and the Grimmerie and her books of notes strewn about. She was chewing on the end of a quill and ink stained her hand.

"Are you ready?" Glinda asked.

"Quiet!" Elphaba snapped out.

Glinda nodded and squeezed Mirelle's hand in comfort. Her daughter, their daughter, laid in the small bed – incredibly nervous. "I'm scared," Mirelle whispered. "Will it hurt?"

"I don't know," Glinda replied. "Elphie, is this going to hurt her?"

"I don't know! Stop asking so many damn questions!"

Glinda nodded, once again, and chewed her bottom lip in both frustration and fear. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Elphaba made no reply and returned to scribbling among her already scribbled notes. "Just a few more minutes," she muttered offhandedly. "I just need a few more minutes to straighten everything out, okay?"

"Fae, are you sure you're okay to do this? You look a little freaked out."

"I'm fine Fiyero. Now just shut-up! All of you!"

They all fell silent. The only sound to be heard was Elphaba's murmurs and her quill on paper. She was nervous and her body was shaking, making her mind wander. She hadn't slept in days as she had desperately tried to figure out the last of her flimsy spell. She was terrified that she might kill Mirelle in some failed spell, some horrible accident, and she didn't want such guilt on her conscious. But she had to do it, it was her duty. She was the only one who had the power, the possible ability, the chance, to save this young child's life. She was the only one who could make her walk again. But she didn't want the spell to be like it was with Nessa. She didn't want the spell to be just a pair of enchanted shoes only. She wanted the spell to _work_, to truly work. But there was no spell in the Grimmerie for such a thing so she had had to create her own.

She just didn't know if it would really work.

"I'm ready," Elphaba whispered as she set her quill down and finally looked up. "Mirelle, are you sure you want to do this? It might work, it might not. It might hurt, it might not. You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I want to walk again," Mirelle replied as she looked at her mother for reassurance.

Elphaba nodded. "Very well then. Glinda, if you will, please step away from the bed."

Glinda retreated to the wall, near the large picture window, and stood beside Fiyero. He wrapped his arm around her and held the terrified blonde close to him. "It will be okay," he whispered. "Fae will make it all okay. Trust me."

Elphaba took her scribbled page of notes, her crumpled page that her half-formed spell was written on, and walked around the table. She set the paper down on the edge of the bed and just looked at Mirelle for a few minutes. "I'm not going to tell you that it will be fine," she said to the child as she took Mirelle's hand in her own. "Because I cannot say that it will. But I'm going to do my best for you, okay?"

Mirelle nodded but said nothing. She turned her head to stare at her parents, hoping for their support.

Elphaba let go of Mirelle's hand and sighed. "Let's begin then," she said. "And perhaps soon you shall be able to walk again."

The green witch, for she was indeed being a witch at that precise moment, picked up her page and began to read. The words were foreign yet somewhat familiar and her voice still sang like a beautiful songbird. She found it easier to read the spells by singing so she chose that method, not knowing if it was truly right.

Mirelle began to cry, saying that her legs hurt, that she hurt. The room went bitterly cold, despite the warm wind that blew in, and Elphaba did her best to ignore Mirelle's cries. She couldn't let herself get distracted but it was so hard not to with Mirelle crying as she was. Glinda moved to the bedside but Elphaba snapped at her to stay back before returning to her spell. Glinda did.

And then suddenly Elphaba went quiet. She stopped her spell and her face went as pale as her green skin allowed her to.

"Is something wrong?" Fiyero asked, afraid.

Elphaba stared at Mirelle, a child in so much pain, and nodded, almost impossible to see. "I… I can't finish it."

"What do you mean?" Fiyero questioned, concerned, as he stepped forward. "You… the spell… you said you could do it!"

"I said I would try!" Elphaba screamed. "Now please! Let me figure this out!"

"Figure what out?"

"The last two words! Please… I just… every spell has two words that finishes it, which tells it to be over! I just… there isn't! I don't know! I said the words but it's not over! I can feel it, inside me, like a fire, like acid, like all those fucking men! It won't stop! I don't understand!" She was in tears now, and they traced down her face, leaving burns in their wake. "I just! It's only two damn words and now she's dead! Now she's going to be dead because of me! I'm so sorry! I'm so damn sorry!" She sunk to her knees, the useless paper of broken words slipping from her hand, and stared at Mirelle – her face scrunched up in pain.

"Make it stop," Mirelle choked out. "Please, make the pain go away."

"I can't!" Elphaba cried out. "I don't know what to do! It wasn't supposed to end like this! It wasn't… it wasn't! I swear I thought that it… I thought it was right! I did all the research! I made sure! _I made sure_!"

"Elphie! Elphie please!" Glinda shrieked as she ran around the bed and kneeled down beside her green friend. "Elphie! You have to do you something! You must! You… you can't leave a spell unfinished! Remember? Morrible told us that all the time in sorcery lessons! A spell unfinished is worse than any spell completed! A spell unfinished could be horrible! You have to do something!"

"I can't!"

"Yes you can! It's just two words! Elphie! It's just two little words! Two words… just two words… you can do it… please… for us… for yourself. You… you just have to figure it out! Here! Here!" She reached behind her and grabbed the Grimmerie from the table, placed it in front of Elphaba on the bed. "Look! Take it! Find those words and save her!"

Elphaba nodded, too terrified at the prospect of failure – of being a murderer once again, to even think about going against Glinda's orders. She straightened up just enough to reach the book. She opened it up, her hand shaking, and tried to read through her tears but her vision was just too blurry. She wiped at her eyes, burning her fingers in the process, but barely even noticed the stinging on her hand and face. She flipped through her cursed book of spells and struggled to understand the words written there. All she needed were two, two words, but she could not find them. Her movements were jerky and frantic as Mirelle's cries of pain distracted her – tore at her soul. The child was dying, she knew that, but she was desperate to stop what she had started. It was right, she knew, the entire spell was right except for those final two words. They didn't fit, she realized suddenly. Their syllables, their pattern, they didn't flow within the rest of the spell.

"Frei schwerelos," Elphaba whispered, not even finding the words within the Grimmerie's pages. They had just come to her, from her heart. "Frei schwerelos," she repeated, louder. "Frei schwerelos!"

And the room suddenly snapped back into warmth. Mirelle's cries of pain faded away into hiccupping sobs and Elphaba watched the trembling child in expectation. "Mirelle?" Elphaba asked; her voice choked and barely audible. "Mirelle, do you feel better now? Do you feel okay? At least a little bit?"

Mirelle's eyes were shut, and her tiny hands balled into fists, but she managed to nod through her pain. "A little," she muttered. "It not so cold anymore."

"No, no it's not," Elphaba said as she stood up. She closed the Grimmerie and reached forward, pushed a few strands of hair off of Mirelle's face. "Can you feel your legs now? Did it work? Did I do okay?"

Mirelle shrugged. She tried to sit up but she was weak and tired and her body ached, like it was on fire. Fiyero was at her side in a moment, had his hands on her back to steady her. Mirelle opened her eyes and stared at her legs, concentrated only on moving them.

She did.

It was a small twitch, nothing more, but it was enough to send the child into hysterics. She began to cry in earnest and Fiyero hugged her in great relief. Glinda was soon at the child's side as well, also ecstatic, and Elphaba watched with tears burning her skin and a smile plastered on her face.

But then she went cold. Her whole body began to shake and her vision blurred. She stumbled backwards, unable to keep her balance, and reached out for something to support her failing body but her hand met only air. Her chest heaved in a desperate attempt to breathe but the air seemed far too thick for her to inhale.

It was her choking gasps that finally garnered the attention of Fiyero and Glinda. They tore their eyes off of Mirelle and turned to look at their struggling green friend. She stared at them, terrified, and opened her mouth to speak but before she could say a single word the magick that she had called upon, that still swirled within her, became too much for her body to bear. She bolted from the room, running down the twisting hallways until she reached a shared restroom where she barely made it to the commode in time. She fell to her knees, grabbed her hair with her hand at the base of her neck to keep it out of the way, and clutched her stomach with the nubbed end of her right arm. The last meal she had ate, hours beforehand, forced itself out of her body and nearly choked her as it clogged her throat.

Fiyero was suddenly there, kneeling down beside her. He took Elphaba's hair in his own hand so that she could better brace her retching body, and placed his other hand on her lower back. He waited until her violent expulsion of her food was completed before he spoke.

"Do you feel better now?" he asked.

Elphaba nodded as she wiped her mouth with the edge of her sleeve. "A little," she said; she was staring at the contents of the commode – the barely-digested food and bile. "Apparently my body cannot handle such magick anymore."

Fiyero opened his mouth to reply but at that moment Elphaba's stomach twisted in on itself and she was forced to lean over the commode once again. The last remnants of her stomach soon joined the collection of food in the commode but only this time the partially-digested food was tinged red with blood and her throat burned with each wave of coughs that forced the food from her body. Her stomach was cramped and constricted as she continued to choke up bile and blood as the food was long expelled in its entirety.

"Breathe," Fiyero whispered and Elphaba latched on to his calming voice. "Breathe," he continued. "You must try to breathe." He was concerned not only by the blood but by the blue-tinge that her green skin was taking on.

Elphaba followed Fiyero's orders and did her best to focus only on breathing. In time the coughs subsided, though they did not disappear completely, and her skin returned to its normal green colouring. Fiyero sighed and pulled a handkerchief from a pocket in his shirt and handed it to Elphaba. She took it as she leaned back on her heels and wiped her mouth. When she coughed she did so into the handkerchief and it soaked up the small amount of blood that still came from her.

"You should see a doctor."

Elphaba shook her head but the room was spinning around her and her head ached. She closed her eyes to try and gather her thoughts and get her focus back but she could not. She felt Fiyero's hands against her back and on her arm as he gently helped her to stand. She wavered and his hold on her arm tightened in concern.

"Elphaba, you're coughing up blood! That's not exactly normal."

"It's fine."

"Are you okay?" Fiyero asked as he felt her body beginning to trembling. "You look pale."

"I'm green, how can I look pale?" Elphaba snapped out but she still had not opened her eyes and Fiyero's concern only grew.

"Elphaba, please –"

"I'm just weak from the magick," Elphaba interrupted. "I just need some sleep."

"You never sleep though."

Elphaba shrugged. "I do, just, not enough apparently."

"And you're just realizing that now?"

Elphaba frowned and finally opened her eyes but when she looked at Fiyero she saw three of him, not just one, and warning alarms went off in her head. "I need to get out of here," she said and her voice was high and frantic. "Now!"

Fiyero was startled but did not argue. He helped her stay standing as they left the confines of the restroom and found themselves in the hallway which, to Elphaba's relief, was far wider than any hallway need be. She felt it before it happened; the tightness in her chest and the tingling in her limbs alerted her to what was about to occur.

She fell as soon as her strength fled her. Fiyero did his best to keep her head from striking the floor as the convulsive fit overtook her body. He realized now why she had been so desperate to flee the confines of the bathroom; she had feared that her fit would be too dangerous to have in the small area of the restroom. _She had known_, Fiyero realized, and that shocked him. The thought that she knew, even just moments before, when her convulsive fits were about to overtake her had never crossed his mind. But he was certain now that there must be some sort of physical warnings that she gets right before they attacked her which meant, if he could just find out what those warnings were, that there could possibly be a way to stop them – or at least lessen the severity or frequency of them.

When her fit subsided she laid on the cold tiled floor and stared at the ceiling above her. "My head hurts," she muttered when she had caught her breath.

Fiyero scooped up Elphaba's frame – which was not as light as it once was – and took her trembling body to her room, laid her down. She curled up under the thick blankets and stared at the wall as she laid on her side. Her throat felt dry and her breathing was shallow as it seemed to be too much effort for her to breathe properly.

"Are you okay?" Fiyero asked.

"I just thrashed about in the hallway," Elphaba spat out. "What do _you_ think?"

Fiyero sighed and laid himself down beside Elphaba, slipped himself underneath her sheets. He pulled her close to him and her back rested against his chest as he wrapped his arm over her. She shrunk into his warm body and let her eyes slide closed in exhaustion. "You shouldn't be here," she muttered. "You should be with Mirelle. You should be happy, with her, not here worrying about my frailness."

Fiyero did not reply. Instead he simply held Elphaba closer to himself to try and calm her down.

"Tomorrow," she whispered, "tomorrow I will go to a doctor."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"I'm glad."

Elphaba nodded. "My head has hurt since I shot myself."

"Hopefully the doctor will have some answers."

"I'm doing this for you. I doubt the doctor will have any answers."

"I don't care why you're doing it… I'm just glad you _are_ doing it. And who knows, maybe he'll have some theories about why you have those terrible physical fits of yours."

"And maybe he'll just spout nonsense and string words together to make himself sound better than he is."

"Kind of like what you do? Talking in circles and the such?"

Elphaba laughed quietly. "Yes," she said softly, "kind of like that."

They fell into a comfortable, though somewhat restless, sleep and when the sun rose on the morrow Elphaba was true to her word. The doctor was called for and she sat on the edge of her bed, dressed in a thin nightgown, as he prodded and poked and examined. He noticed that whenever he touched the spot at the back of her head where her spine connected to her skull that Elphaba would hiss in pain and heightened sensitivity.

Fiyero and Glinda watched in concerned silence from where they stood at the door – Mirelle was being looked over by a hired nanny – as the doctor had Elphaba drop her head so that he could better look at the tender spot that hurt her so. He was as gentle as he could be but no matter what he did every time he touched that spot on the back of her head Elphaba inhaled sharply and her hand clutched onto the bedding in an attempt to distract herself.

"There's a build-up of fluid at the top of your spine," the doctor eventually said after nearly an hour of silent examination.

"Fluid?" Elphaba questioned as the doctor stopped his prodding of her and turned to his bag of medical supplies.

"It could be blood, it could be infection, it could be something else," the doctor replied. "I really have no idea but it must be removed."

"What harm is it causing?"

The doctor turned back to Elphaba and in his hands he held a syringe and a small bowl. "It's putting pressure on both your spine and the base of your brain. By the hardness of it I say it has been there for most of your life so I doubt it is the cause of your recent headaches but it may be the reason behind the convulsive fits you suffer from."

A flicker of hope fluttered through Elphaba as the doctor approached her again. "What are you going to do?" she asked as she eyed the syringe in worry.

"I'm going to drain the fluid."

"Right here?"

"Yes."

"Is it going to hurt?"

"I have no idea."

Elphaba stood up then and jerked away from the doctor as he tried to get close to her. "I don't like the sounds of this!" she snapped out. "And I'm not consenting to some experimental treatment of yours!"

"Elphie," Glinda spoke up. "Elphie, please… he's only trying to help you."

"He just wants to hurt me!"

Glinda crossed the few feet that separated her and Elphaba and took a hold of a green hand in reassurance. "No, no he's not. He's helping you. Do you want to throw this opportunity away? This could help your fits, maybe get rid of them completely, don't you want that?"

"And what if it doesn't work?" Elphaba snapped out. "What if it only makes them worse!"

"And what if it makes them better? Are you willing to give up this chance just because you're scared?"

"I'm not scared!"

"Yes you are. And there's no shame in that. Now please, try to relax, okay? Me and Fiyero are right here and we're not going to go anywhere."

"Fiyero and I," Elphaba corrected absentmindedly and then looked at Glinda in shock at her own words. "Did I just correct your grammar?" she asked. "As if you were a child?"

Glinda chuckled. "Yes, yes you did."

A small smile grew on Elphaba's face and a few moments later the green woman was overwhelmed with the giggles. She sat back down on her bed and covered her mouth with her hand, tried to stifle her laughter, but found that she could not. "Wow," she said; shocked at herself. "I… I can't believe I just did that."

"I'm not surprised. You should have been a teacher Elphie, you'd be perfect for such a thing."

Elphaba shook her head, still trying to get her laughter under control. "That's far too much responsibility for me." She sucked in a deep gasp and was finally able to rid herself of her giggles. She sighed and looked up at Glinda in defeat. "Fine, he can do the procedure."

Glinda smiled, Fiyero beamed, and the doctor nodded. "Lay down," the doctor ordered, "on your stomach."

Elphaba's mouth went dry and she suddenly looked terribly nervous. "Are you sure it's safe to do this here?" she asked and her voice shook slightly despite her best efforts to keep herself calm.

"Positive. Now please Miss Elphaba, lay down."

The green woman laid herself down and Glinda sat down on the edge of the bed; took Elphaba's hand in her own again. Fiyero crossed the room and sat down beside the blonde, tangled his hand in Elphaba's hair, and leaned down close to Elphaba's face. The doctor frowned as Elphaba turned her head to look at Fiyero.

"You shouldn't turn your head," the doctor said. "But if it helps to keep you calm to see Master Fiyero than I guess you can, I'll work around it."

"Are you sure it's okay?" Elphaba asked as she did not tear her eyes away from Fiyero's loving face. "I'd rather not compromise the procedure if –"

"It's fine," the doctor said as he pushed Elphaba's hair out of the way. "Keep her head still Master Fiyero and this will go far quicker."

Elphaba felt the point of the needle at the base of her neck and the terror overwhelmed her at that very moment but before she could open her mouth to voice her change of mind the doctor pushed. The needle pierced her skin, plunged in-between the discs in her spine, and dug deep into the hardened ball of fluid. For a split-second she screamed until she clamped her mouth shut and bit her lip to keep herself from crying out. Her hand squeezed Glinda's and she kept her eyes locked on Fiyero's as the pain shot out from her neck – crawling down her spine and setting her brain on fire.

"It's okay," Fiyero said, trying to comfort her, as he ran his hand through her hair. "It's going to be okay. It's almost over."

Elphaba could feel the fluid as it was drained from her; pulled out by the syringe connected to the needle in her neck. The draining of the fluid was not particularly painful, just a large sense of pressure, but the pain it was causing her spine and brain was overwhelming. Then she felt it – the tightness in her chest and the tingling that spread out through her limbs. "No," she whispered and Fiyero looked at her confusion. "Stop, you have to stop!" she choked out.

But it was too late. The convulsions began to overtake Elphaba, it was the first time in her life that she had had two fits within the span of twenty-four hours, and sent her body thrashing. Glinda shrieked, Fiyero pulled away in shock, and the doctor stared in horror as the needle connected to the syringe broke – leaving part of it imbedded in the Witch's neck.

It took less than three minutes for Elphaba's body to calm down and eventually she went completely still. Glinda took a hold of a green hand again and Fiyero placed his hand on the side of Elphaba's face. "Elphie?" he whispered. "Elphie, can you hear me? Are you there?"

Her eyes were squeezed shut and the fire that radiated down her spine had only been heightened by her fit. "It hurts," she muttered. "A lot."

"The needle broke," the doctor spoke up as he went back to his bag. "I'm going to have to remove it."

"It's lodged in my neck?" Elphaba asked as she snapped her eyes opened, stared at Fiyero in horror. "I told you that this was a bad idea!"

"It's going to be fine," Fiyero said. "Right doctor?"

The doctor didn't reply and the room fell into an uneasy silence. He rummaged through his bag until he found what he was looking for; a scalpel, a replacement needle for the syringe, a needle meant for stitching, thread, and a cloth. Elphaba watched him with wide eyes as he walked back to the bed's side. He spread the cloth out beside Elphaba on the bed and set his tools down. "What are you planning on doing?" Elphaba asked quietly.

"The needle must be removed and there is still fluid to be drained," the doctor replied. "Relax, I know what I'm doing."

"I don't agree with doing this anymore."

"It's been started now and it must be finished," the doctor snapped out and it was clear that he was becoming impatient and frustrated, and possibly nervous. "Now stay silent and let me work. And try not to have another fit." He fiddled with the replacement needle as he fitted it on the syringe before setting it back down on the cloth.

"If I could control them I wouldn't be in this predicament to begin with!" Elphaba moved to sit up but the doctor shot out his hand to grab her shoulder and keep her still.

"Don't move," he ordered; rather harshly. "We don't want the needle slipping further into your body, now do we?"

Elphaba gulped. "It can do that?"

"It may." The doctor took the scalpel and set it on the back of Elphaba's neck, where the needle had broken apart within her body and left a small wound in her skin. "Master Fiyero, if you would keep her head still please. This, I know for certain, is going to hurt."

The sharp edge of the scalpel split apart her green skin in one deft movement. Fiyero moved his hand from the side of Elphaba's face to the back of her head and tried to keep the green woman as still as possible. She shut her eyes and bit her lip again, trying to block out the pain coursing through her. Glinda squeaked slightly as Elphaba squeezed her hand so tightly that the blonde feared it would break. The doctor was as quick as he could be and soon he had the broken needle pulled free from where it was imbedded in Elphaba's neck. He plunged the syringe back into her neck, removed as much of the fluid as he could before he began to fear for the green Witch's health. But as he pulled the new needle out of Elphaba's neck he accidentally nicked the delicate spinal column that was surrounded by the discs meant to protect it. The doctor froze as an ear-piercing scream was wretched from Elphaba's mouth as sensitive nerves were torn and destroyed by the sharp point of the needle and the doctor's wavering hand. The green hand that was tightly holding Glinda's hand went limp and Elphaba realized, at that exact moment, that the doctor had paralyzed her.

Then she felt the magick building within her and in an instant it overwhelmed her. The power pushed out of her body; threw the doctor and his dangerous needle across the room. The doctor was knocked unconscious as his head struck the wall and his body fell, limp, into a heap on the floor. Fiyero and Glinda were also shoved from her but not with the same deadly force that her magick had thrown the doctor away with.

"Elphaba?" Fiyero questioned as he picked himself off of the floor and returned to the bedside. "Elphaba, what's wrong?"

"He has paralyzed me," Elphaba murmured; her eyes tightly shut. She could feel the magick swirling in her, trying to heal her, and she feared that she would not be able to fix the doctor's mistake. "The Grimmerie. I need… I need the Grimmerie. Please, bring it to me."

"He _what_?"

"Please Fiyero, the Grimmerie, now... well there's still some time."

"You can fix this?"

Elphaba's eyes snapped opened. "The Grimmerie!" she shrieked. "Now!"

"I'll get it," Glinda spoke up and then she was gone, disappearing down the hallway as she rushed to get the magickal book that Elphaba could only pray would help to heal her now.

"I need to sit up," Elphaba said. "Fiyero, please… when you get around to getting over your shock can you help me to sit up, please? I believe I am not completely paralyzed, that I can still sit up if you would only help me."

Fiyero stared at Elphaba. "You're… you're paralyzed?" he breathed.

"Fiyero!" Elphaba screamed; her own panic and fear slowly overwhelming her. "Don't fall into shock on me now!"

The Vinkus prince, who should have been the ruler of the Vinkus by now, shook his head to clear his thoughts. He gently rolled Elphaba on to her back and then slid his arms underneath her body and sat her up, rested her back against the wall. She hissed in pain as she had to get accustomed to the sudden pressure on her back. But the pain didn't worry her as it told her that if she still felt pain then there was a chance that she was not permanently paralyzed, that she could regain movement if she could just concentrate – focus her powers in some way. But she needed the Grimmerie for that; she needed a spell to help her wield her magick in a useful way.

Glinda returned then and she carefully approached Elphaba. "Where do you –"

"My lap," Elphaba said, "and please, you have to turn the pages for me."

"What spell are you looking for?"

"I don't know," Elphaba confessed. "I will know when I see it… hopefully."

"This doesn't sound promising," Fiyero whispered.

"Shut-up!" Elphaba snapped out. "And do something useful for once!"

"And what would that be?" Fiyero shot back.

"See to the doctor. I fear I might have hurt him. Next page Glinda."

"You're paralyzed and you care about whether you hurt the doctor that did this to you or not?" Fiyero was shocked.

"Well I'm sorry for carrying about others _Master_ Fiyero! Next page."

"Please don't fight," Glinda said. "Not right now."

"We're not fighting!" Fiyero screamed in anger as he made his way to the other side of the room and kneeled down besides the doctor; placed his fingers on the unconscious doctor's neck to search for a pulse.

"Actually… I am," Elphaba confessed. "Next page. Nope, flip the page again. I think Fiyero's just trying to mask his fear though. Next page."

"Am not! There's a pulse, the doctor should be fine."

"Good. Next page. You know what Glinda, just keep flipping the pages until I tell you to stop, okay?"

"Yes," Glinda said meekly as she tried to keep herself out of the verbal altercation occurring between her best friend and her lover. She did her best to judge how much time Elphaba needed to scan the words in the Grimmerie before flipping the page and since Elphaba did not complain Glinda assumed that she was judging properly.

"Stop!" Elphaba suddenly shrieked. Glinda froze and Fiyero jerked up from where he was still kneeled down beside the doctor.

"Did you find the spell?" Glinda asked.

Elphaba did not respond. Instead she stared at the page for a few long minutes before she began to read. The words were foreign and at first they came out jerky as the green Witch stumbled over the strange spell. But soon she fell into the rhythm that the words were written in and her eyes became glassy and unfocused as the magick swirled within her – made the words seem to dance off the page they were written on. The room went cold for a moment, as if Elphaba's magick had sucked the warmth and energy from it, before becoming almost unbearably hot.

But then she stopped, her breath caught in her throat, and she began to cough violently. Her head ached and pain like burning water coursed down her spine and spread out through her entire body. She reached out and clutched the Grimmerie, tried to keep herself focused through her pain, and that's when she realized that she _could_ move again.

"Oh, Elphie!" Glinda squealed. "You did it! You have healed yourself!"

"No," Elphaba choked out, "the spell must be finished."

Glinda's face fell as she grabbed a hold of Elphaba's hand. "But why? You're better, aren't you?"

"An unfinished spell is unpredictable, could be deadly. You told me that just yesterday for Oz's sake!" Elphaba pulled her hand from Glinda's grasp and tried to bring the Grimmerie closer to her. She picked up the spell where she had been cut off by her choking coughs but she felt a sudden feeling of dread in her stomach as she continued to read. Something about this spell did not seem right, something about this spell spelt of a horrible disaster. She knew enough from her many failed attempts at creating her band of winged monkeys to recognize the warning signs of a terrible spell not meant for this world.

"Stop!" Fiyero suddenly screamed. "Elphaba! You _must_ stop!"

"I'm nearly done," Elphaba distractedly said.

"You have to stop!" Fiyero ran to her, tried to pull the Grimmerie from her hold but for only having one hand she had a surprisingly strong grip.

"I can't!" she shrieked, finally focusing on Fiyero and what he was trying to do. "_I must finish_!"

Fiyero tore the book from her but Elphaba shot forward, crawled across the bed as best as she could, and reached for it. She managed to secure a grip on it but as she did she laid eyes on the doctor crumpled on the floor, face down, and she inhaled sharply. Blood was pooling around him and his spine was partially torn from his body; suspended in air. As she stared at him in horror she felt the sensation in her legs beginning to fade away with the lapse in her spell-reading and she realized that if she wanted herself to stay un-paralyzed she had to finish the spell. She simply _had_ to.

"I must finish," she said quietly as her hand slipped the Grimmerie. She was stricken by horror and shock at the sight of the doctor before her; of what _she_ had done to the doctor.

"You're killing the doctor!" Fiyero screamed at her. "I can't let you do that!"

"He's already dead," Elphaba whispered, "and if I don't finish the spell I will become paralyzed again. I must finish… I must…" She reached for the book again and turned pleading eyes towards Fiyero. "Please… I have already killed him, don't let it be in vain. Please Fiyero, I beg of you, give me back the Grimmerie."

Fiyero looked from the doctor to Elphaba and then back to the doctor. He closed his eyes and hesitantly handed the book over. Elphaba took it greedily and flipped through it, searching for the spell again, and when she found it she began to read. Once again she felt the power surging through her and the water-burning pain coursing down her back. She tried to ignore what her magick was really doing but out of the corner of her eyes she could see the doctor's spine as it was brutally ripped from his body. It hung in the air for a few brief moments, covered in blood and severed nerves, before it seemed to explode outwards. It turned to dust which concentrated itself into a floating ball of a strange red-tinted gray colour. As the last words of the spell came from Elphaba's mouth she looked up to stare at the condensed ball of spine-dust and blood floating a few feet away from her. It shot forward and spread out into a wall of dust surrounding her entire body in what seemed like a floating, semi-transparent blanket.

Elphaba screamed. The spine-dust flew into her and forced itself into her body through whatever means it could; her mouth, her eyes, her nose, the wound at the back of her neck left by the doctor, and any other way it found. It felt like thousands of knives being thrust into every inch of her body, inside and out, and she could not help but let out a terrifying wail as the pain sent her mind reeling. She felt the spine-dust course through her body before it settled – every last particle of it – in the wound at her neck. She fell backwards to lay on the bed and her back arched up as the magick swirled around her; shrouded the room in darkness and bitter cold as it stole the energy out from the air around her to help it in its cause. It took less than a minute for the powerful yet horrible magick, initiated by Elphaba herself, to heal the damaged nerves in the green Witch's spine. When it was done, and the burning pain had dulled to a somewhat bearable amount, Elphaba rolled onto her side and the excessive spine-dust that she had not needed bubbled out of her mouth in a wet, brown, and thick paste. She coughed and choked and clutched at her stomach as it was forced from her body and every movement she made, no matter how miniscule, jerked her barely healed spine and sent pain radiating down her back.

When she had calmed down Glinda crawled onto the bed and settled herself beside Elphaba so that they laid with Elphaba's back propped against Glinda's chest. A pale arm wrapped around a frail, shaking green body. "It's going to be okay," Glinda whispered. "It's going to be fine."

"I didn't know," Elphaba choked out as her hand came up to grasps Glinda's desperately. "I didn't know what that spell did. If… if I had I… I wouldn't have… I swear to you… if I had known –"

"It's okay," Glinda interrupted. "It's okay. Everything is going to be just fine, okay?"

"I killed him."

"It was an accident."

"I killed him!"

"You didn't know. You had no idea what that spell did."

"If I was any sort of proper witch I would know what the spells do before I performed them!"

"Calm down," Glinda whispered; she sounded like she was about to cry. "Please… Elphie… just… just calm down, okay?"

Elphaba choked back a sob. "I killed him," she muttered. "I _murdered_ him."

Fiyero made his way to the side of the bed and kneeled down in front of Elphaba; careful to avoid the mess of bile and spine-dust fluid that had collected on the bedding and the floor. "You didn't know," Fiyero said, repeating what Glinda had already said. "We don't blame you. You were only trying to save yourself. It wasn't your fault."

"No one else is going to see it like that!" Elphaba spat out. "_I_ don't even see it like that!"

"I'm going to take care of it," Fiyero said. "Don't you worry about a single thing. I will take care of it all, okay?"

Elphaba nodded; the motion jerky and frantic. "I can smell the blood," she muttered as her eyes slid shut in both exhaustion and despair.

"We all can."

"I'm so sorry. I… I shouldn't have… I don't know what I was thinking. To perform a spell I didn't understand… how idiotic can I be?"

Fiyero sighed. "Look, we should get you into another room until we can get this all cleaned up and figured out. Do you think you're okay to move?"

"My back hurts."

"I'm sure it does," Fiyero replied. "But do you think it's safe for me to move you?"

"I don't know."

"I need a better answer than that. I don't want to hurt you but I don't think you should stay in this room right now. Can I move you?"

"You can try."

Fiyero frowned in frustration. "Fine," he said; harsher than he intended. "Glinda, if you would help me roll her onto her back."

"I'm not an invalid!" Elphaba snapped out. "I can move myself!"

"You've suffered a back injury," Fiyero said as he tried to keep his voice calm and level in the face of Elphaba's grief and persistent stubbornness. "I don't want to risk hurting you by causing any unnecessary movement."

"Yet you want to move me from this room!"

"This room has a dead man in it!"

"Stop!" Glinda cut in as she sat up. "Both of you! Just stop yelling!"

Elphaba tried to sit up to prove that she was fine but she let out a sharp gasp of pain. Her hand clutched onto the bedding as the fiery pain shot down her back and spread out through her body. She shut her eyes and focused only on breathing so that she could attempt to get some measure of control over the unbearable pain coursing through her.

"Don't be stubborn now," Fiyero said, forcing his voice to be gentle. "Not this time, okay?" He slowly rolled Elphaba onto her back as Glinda put her hands against her friend's back; helping to support Elphaba's body. Elphaba hissed as her full body weight was put upon her severely injured spine. Fiyero noticed her discomfort immediately and quickly slid his arms underneath her shoulders and her knees – picked her up as gently as she could. The natural sway of her back that was created by being picked up in such a matter only caused her pain to worsen and she nearly wailed out but bit her tongue instead; tried to distract herself from the pain in her back by causing herself pain somewhere else.

She didn't open her eyes, she didn't want to look, as Fiyero carried her to another room down the hall. Glinda walked beside them, opened the door, and busied herself by pulling the sheets back on the bed and rearranging the pillows.

"Would you rather sit up or lay down?" Fiyero asked as he approached the bedside.

Elphaba finally opened her eyes and recognized the room she was in. "This is your room," she whispered. "The room you share with Glinda."

"Indeed."

"But… but where will you sleep?"

"It matters little. There are plenty of guest rooms we can prepare for us to sleep in but this is the only other room that's prepared right now. So I ask again, do you want to sit up or lay down?"

"Lay," Elphaba finally answered as she studied Fiyero. He was not looking at her, he was looking straight ahead, and from the angle she was looking at him she could mostly just see his chin and little edges of his face. "Why aren't you looking at me?" she asked as he gently set her down on the bed. She gasped at the change in pressure on her back and Fiyero quickly helped her to roll onto her side where the pressure was less painful.

Fiyero sighed. "I'll get you some whiskey, it should help to dull the pain." He still wasn't looking at her.

"Fiyero…" Elphaba trailed off as he left the room then, the door shutting quietly behind him.

She felt thick, warm blankets being pulled up to cover her and then Glinda stepped into her line of vision, kneeled down beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Then sleep. Don't worry about a thing, don't stress over anything, okay?"

"How do you expect me to do that? I just murdered someone!"

"I'm not going to try and tell you that you didn't because we both know that that is a lie. But what you did you did to save yourself, and you did not know." Glinda smiled at her and brought a pale hand to rest against a green cheek. "It was an accident Elphie… much like Mirelle's fall. It was an accident and you must learn to accept that accidents happen. The fault is not yours, okay? You didn't know."

Elphaba opened her mouth to respond but suddenly there were voices beyond the room; screams of shock and horror and orders being called out. The door burst opened and a flurry of Guards and Officials came thundering in. Glinda shot up and spun around to face the crowd, tried to protect her friend.

"What is the meaning of this?" Fiyero screamed as he was suddenly there, pushing his way through the crowd of people and standing beside Glinda.

"The brutal murder of Dr. Vilkohese in this very palace!" one of the Guards shouted. "We are here to take the Witch into custody!"

"No one is taking anyone anywhere!" Fiyero bellowed and his voice was excruciatingly loud and demanding; he left no room for argument. "Everyone is to leave now on the orders of myself and Lady Glinda!"

The Guards and Officials looked taken aback for a few moments. "We cannot allow such a thing," the Guard said but now he seemed less sure of himself; more afraid.

"Leave!" Fiyero shouted. "Now! All of you!"

An Official, one that Elphaba did not recognize, stepped forward – made to brush passed Fiyero and Glinda and gain control of the green Witch's life. But Fiyero grabbed his arm and threw him backwards. He stumbled into the crowd and knocked a few others off balance. "Get out!" Fiyero repeated and it was clear that he was both angry and exasperated.

The crowd could not be so easily deterred. They shot forward and Elphaba sat up as they pressed closer to her bed. Her back protested as the fiery pain shot down her spine and extended out through her body. "I'm sorry!" she blurted out and her confession shocked the crowd into stillness. She stared at them, surprised at her own words, and then dropped her gaze to the ground. Suddenly their presence was overwhelming and their shouting words created a cacophony of noise that made her head ache. Her vision blurred and spun and she vaguely recognized that her breathing was constricted and shallow – was she hyperventilating?

Then there was nothing but darkness. She felt excruciating pain as she fell backwards and her full body weight was once again pressed upon her horribly injured spine. But the pain was not enough to bring her out of the blackness slowly suffocating her mind and she was soon swept away into the blissful ignorance that unconsciousness granted her.


	44. Chapter Forty Three

_**Author's Note: **Sorry for the short chapter but I promise I'll make up for it in the next chapter because the next chapter has an exciting surprise! Also, this story is near ending but never fear, there is, of course, a sequel already in the works because let's face it, this is me, and I doubt I will ever be able to end this sweeping insanity that has become my Wicked series. I just love writing these characters too much! I fear the day I will eventually have to end the series but don't worry, that day won't be for a long while yet! ;)_

--

_But the pain was not enough to bring her out of the blackness slowly suffocating her mind and she was soon swept away into the blissful ignorance that unconsciousness granted her._

--

**Chapter Forty-Three:**

_Breathe_. The word was a life-line; a command that gave her a sense of purpose.

_Breathe_. She latched onto the word and tried to recognize the voice that spoke to her. She didn't even come to think that perhaps she should try and follow the order being given to her instead of just latching onto the voice.

_Breathe_. There it was again, the word and the voice that she could not place. But this time she did take in a large, gasping breath that made her back ache.

_Breathe. There you go Fae. Breathe. Keep on breathing. You can do it._

As she continued to struggle to breathe the hazy fog that had overcome her mind began to lift. After a few minutes of listening to the strange voice commanding her to breathe her vision began to return to her. Her lungs burned but the fire within them was lessening with each deep breath she took. In time she managed to blink away the blackness form her vision and a blurred image of Fiyero began to appear.

"Fae?" Fiyero questioned and it was clear that he had been the one talking her back into consciousness. "Are you well?"

"The Guards!" she shrieked suddenly as she jerked up into a sitting position that made her cry out in pain as the retching move sent fire upon her spine.

Fiyero grabbed her shoulder, kept her wavering body steady. "They're gone," he said; trying to calm her down. "The shock of causing you to pass out finally got them to leave."

"I told you this wasn't going to be fine!"

"I'll set everything right." Fiyero smiled at her in a pitiful attempt at reassurance. "You need to rest. And you need to lay down before you hurt your back further."

Elphaba found that she did not have the strength nor the heart to deny Fiyero's wisdom. She let him push her back onto the bed and she rolled onto her side; found comfort in the softness of the pillows and mattress and the warmth the bedding offered her. She drifted into sleep, finding that her exhaustion was too severe to overcome.


	45. Chapter Forty Four

_She drifted into sleep, finding that her exhaustion was too severe to overcome._

--

**Chapter Forty-Four:**

Nearly three weeks later, or just passed three weeks – she could not tell for certain, Elphaba had gained the strength to sit up. She had to keep herself propped up with the wall and there was an ache that had settled where her spine met her head, where the doctor had initially injured her, and she had come to accept that that was a pain she would most likely have to live with.

She started slightly when the door to the room opened and Fiyero, Glinda, and Mirelle – walking but still unsteady on her feet – all entered. She was still in the room that Fiyero and Glinda shared for they feared moving her even though she had told them, multiple times, that she was more than well enough to be moved. They would hear nothing of it.

They came to her bed. Fiyero dragged a chair to the side of the bed and sat down while Glinda and Mirelle sat down on the bed; Glinda on the edge and Mirelle at the foot. Elphaba looked at them all in utter confusion for none of them had uttered a single word.

"What is the meaning of this?" she asked as she eyed the small box, gold in colour, that Glinda held in her pale hands.

"Happy birthday Elphie!" Glinda squealed and it was obvious that it had taken all of the blonde's control to hold in her excitement until that specific moment.

Elphaba was dumbfounded at not only the prospect that it was her birthday but also at the prospect that someone besides herself had remembered such a day in her life. She stared, her mouth opened slightly, at Glinda's excited face. "Birthday?" she breathed. "You… you actually know when my birthday is?"

"Why of course we do you silly goose!" Glinda replied playfully. "Here, we got you a present. It's not much but I know it's something you've wanted for a long time." She held the present out and Elphaba leaned forward slightly, took the box and set it on her lap.

Long green fingers carefully undid the gold-coloured paper and then she grasped the box's lid; lifted it off and set it to the side. She didn't look into the box for something made her hesitant. Instead she looked up and met Glinda's eyes; seemed to be asking permission to look down and see what her present truly was. Glinda smiled reassuringly and nodded. Elphaba returned the smiled, took a deep breath, and dipped her head to see what the box held.

She gasped, shrieked, felt the tears burst to the surface, and inhaled sharply to try and calm herself down. "It… it can't be… how… it is… is it actually… I never thought… where did…" she stammered over her words; stumbling over her own racing thoughts. She reached into the box, grabbed a hold of what it held, and gently pulled it out.

Within her green hand she held a single diamond-covered, jewel-encrusted shoe. Her memories overwhelmed her then; days spent with her sister, a simpler time in her life. She held onto the shoe that held her father's love, a love he had never shown her.

"We were only able to track down the one," Glinda whispered. "The other one has been lost over the years."

"How did you –"

"It doesn't matter how," Fiyero spoke up. "But they were rightfully yours, weren't they? And now you have one back."

"But… it doesn't… it just…" Words failed her as she held the glimmering shoe in her hand. She tried to swallow back the lump of swirling emotions in her throat but found that this time she could not hold her tears back. They broke through her control and she bit her lip as they traced fiery paths down her face. Fiyero came to her side instantly; procured a handkerchief from some inner pocket and used it to dry her tears. Elphaba took little notice to what he was doing as she was still memorized by her sister's shoe that she held. She could not take her eyes off of it, could not stop staring at its shimmering jewels. It was as if she held her father's love and her sister's memory in her hand. It was overwhelming; made her head spin and her breaths come in ragged gasps.

"Elphie?" Glinda questioned. "Elphie, are you well?"

She was sucked back into her past. Memories of her childhood with Nessa danced across her vision. Times of laughter, of sadness, of caring, of teaching, and of comforting. Her childhood spun through her; bringing up memories she did not wish to deal with. Memories of Nessa brought upon memories of her father, and the torment he had placed upon her. It was a remarkable gift, this damned shoe, that carried with it both inexplicable joy and devastating pain.

The vomit lurched up into her mouth, choked off her air, and she struggled to swallow it back. She blinked, ferociously, to bring herself back to the present. When she sure she was out of the grasp of her past she slowly slid out of the bed. She was unsteady on her feet but shrugged off Fiyero's helping hands.

"What are you doing?" Fiyero asked and it was clear he was concerned. "You shouldn't be out of bed."

He spoke the truth, Elphaba realized, as the pain in her back was excruciating as she stood but she ignored him – as she often did when it came to her health. Instead she left the room, walking slowly and with Nessa's jeweled shoe still clutched in her hand. Fiyero, Glinda, and Mirelle followed silently, worried. Elphaba shakily made her way down the long, twisting hallways – accepting Fiyero's steady hands on her only when she had to navigate her way down a small set of stairs. She reached the door to her room and opened it, entered. She crossed the room to stand before the fireplace that was directly opposite of her bed. She set the single jeweled shoe on top of the bare mantel, directly in the center, and stepped backwards. She stared at the shining jewels that encompassed so much of her and her past that it was almost painful to look at.

Yet it was something. It was a tangible object that she could place all her feelings of betrayal and hatred and despair from her past on to. And it was a memory of hope, of the strength of her own self and the power she held within her. She reached out and gently traced her fingers over the silver shoe and she swore she could still feel the power that laid within it – the power she had magicked into it decades ago to help her sister walk. It was a symbol of goodness; of what she could have been, of what she might still be. And it was proof that this was the true shoe, not some imitation imposter like so many of the other fake jeweled shoes that were made after Dorothy's famed journey. This one _was_ Nessa's, was hers now, and it made her smile to lay eyes on it now. It shined a faded light on the darkness that was her soul and gave her a measure of hope. She didn't understand why she felt like she did towards it, it was only a single shoe after all, but she did – and she knew enough now, in her age, to know when not to question herself.

"Thank you," she whispered and her voice was choked with the tears she could barely suppress. "You don't understand… you can't understand…"

Glinda stepped forward, took a hold of Elphaba's hand and pulled it away from Nessa's old shoe. "You like it?" she asked, she seemed unsure of her question – as if she had been uncertain of giving Elphaba the shoe to begin with. "I… I didn't know what it meant to you, if anything, anymore and I just… I wasn't sure what your reaction would be… and I didn't want to upset you… and –"

"It's perfect," Elphaba interrupted as she tore her eyes from the shoe and looked at Glinda instead. "Absolutely perfect." Tears glistened in her eyes but she blinked them back; afraid of letting them spill down her face once again. So Glinda let her own tears of happiness fall instead; knowing that she was crying not just for herself but for Elphaba as well.

Elphaba suddenly reached out and enveloped Glinda in a tight embraced. It was an action that startled Glinda but once the blonde had regained her composure over the shock of Elphaba's expression of emotion she returned the embrace. They stayed like that for a few long minutes as Elphaba buried her head in Glinda's blonde curls and did her best to sniffle back her tears. When Elphaba had regained her composure she pulled away from her blonde friend and looked down at her. "Thank you," she said, once again. "I… I can't thank you enough. Both of you." She looked up at Fiyero then, who stood near the door with Mirelle. "How you two found it… I just… I can't imagine. The time it must have taken to track it down. I just… thank you!"

"I only wish I had never given them to Dorothy in the first place," Glinda said and her voice was a choked whisper. "They nearly tore us apart, all that time ago, remember? When we met at Nessa's funeral? If I had known back then what I knew now I would never have –"

"If I knew what I knew now back then I would have done a lot of things different as well," Elphaba interrupted. "There's no need to dwell on the past. That, at least, I've learnt."

"But things could have been so different if –"

"If anyone of us had done just one thing different in our past, made one decision different, our whole lives would be on different paths. But we didn't. We made the decisions we did, we did the things we did, and we all made mistakes. But we all have perfect hindsight. And that's the joy of life, is it not? If we all made the right decisions, the perfect decisions, and never made a single mistake, how boring and dull would life be then?"

Fiyero and Glinda stared at Elphaba in shock. Was this a confession of acceptance? Had Elphaba Thropp truly come to accept her painful past? It seemed impossible and yet her words were proof that she had.

In the silence that followed her words Elphaba moved to her bed and sat down, finding a great relief to the pressure and pain on her spine when she took the weight off her feet. "What happened with the doctor anyways?" she asked and the somewhat happy mood that had befallen the strange collection of a family was shattered at her question. She hadn't dared to inquire as to what had become of him until now.

"He's family was told and he was buried," Fiyero replied.

"And yet I'm not imprisoned?" Elphaba question as she stared at her lap. "Yet I'm not charged with his death? What did you tell the people?"

"The truth," Fiyero said as he crossed the room, sat down beside her. "He died when he tried to help you and you accidentally perceived his help as danger and your magick, uncontrolled in your blind terror, killed him. An accident in its entirety."

"They believed you?" She looked up at Fiyero in disbelief. "That hardly seems plausible."

"The people have either seen your magick in action or they've heard rumours of the terrible power within you. When someone has such utter power it is easy to believe that it may become uncontrollable at times. And besides, it was a statement by myself and Glinda – and it is hard for the people to do anything _but_ believe our statements. After all, that is why we are in the positions we are, because the public believes our every word."

Elphaba nodded but she was still far too shocked at the present she had received, at having at least one of those jeweled shoes returned to her, to carry on much of a conversation. But Fiyero was not to be deterred by her silence and he stood up from the bed, walked to Glinda's side, and took her hand. He led the blonde to the bed and gestured for her to sit besides Elphaba. She did and she shared a confused look with her green friend. Neither woman had any idea or inclination of what Fiyero was doing.

And, as a result, they were both utterly shocked by what occurred next.

Fiyero, the prince of the Vinkus, went down on one knee and procured a small black box from some inner pocket of his vest. He opened it to reveal two identical diamond rings with silver bands except for one fact; one ring had a small pink stone set into the middle of the diamond, the other a small green stone.

"Will you marry me?"

The question sent shivers down both women's spines. Their mouth's hung open in shock and tears pooled in both their eyes. Glinda could not control herself and the tears coursed down her face, Elphaba blinked rapidly to keep hers in check.

It was Glinda who reacted first. She reached forward, took the diamond ring with the green stone, and slipped it onto her left ring finger. She smiled, radiating with joy, and chocked out a breathless, "Yes."

Elphaba could not find her voice. She stared at the ring, still sitting in the black box, for longer than she could even count. Her mind spun and her heart throbbed. She felt, she realized, completely happy. For the first time in her life she felt utterly happy. Her soul itself seemed to be full of joy, and nothing more.

Slowly, uncertainly, she reached for the ring. She was afraid, terrified even, that this whole day had been nothing more than some blissful dream. That at any moment she would wake up to find that she had no jeweled shoe upon her mantle, that she held no diamond ring in her hand. But as she picked up the ring the dream did not dissipate into reality for _this_ was reality, nothing more.

Glinda gentle took the ring from Elphaba's grasp and slipped it onto a green finger. Elphaba stared at the ring, loved the fact that the stone set into it was pink, and then finally looked up to meet Glinda's eyes. "Is this a dream?" she asked, her voice shaking and barely audible. "Or is this the truth?"

"This is real," Glinda replied, beaming. "This is… this is real!"

Elphaba smiled, a grin that seemed to take over her entire face, and turned her head to look at Fiyero who still kneeled upon the floor. She nodded, frantically. "Yes!" she shrieked, reacting in a way more befitting of Glinda than herself. "Yes!"

She lurched from the bed, ignoring the sharp pain that rippled through her spine, and enveloped Fiyero in a tight hug. She buried her head into his shoulder and bit her lower lip to keep her tears in check. "I just… I cannot… this is… oh, Fiyero!"

"Are you happy? Are both of you happy?"

"Of course!" Glinda squealed and she seemed to bounce upon the bed in excitement. "Fiyero… I never thought that you would… I can't believe this is happening!"

"Well it most definitely is," Fiyero responded with his own smile. He rubbed soothing circles over Elphaba's lower back to try and calm the green woman down so that she would not burn herself with her own tears.

"Does this mean there going to be a wedding?" Mirelle questioned from where she still stood at the doorway. "And a dance? And a party? And cake and presents? And pretty dresses?"

"There most certainly will be," Glinda replied, still beaming. "With great decorations and the grandness dresses there are!" Glinda was ecstatic with the idea of her perfect wedding already forming in her mind. She had long ago given up on her childhood dream of a grand wedding to the man she loved with all her heart but the prospect of having such a day given back to her was nearly overwhelming. And to share such a day with her best friend! The idea was beyond amazing, was nearly incomprehensible.

"Can my dress be green?" Mirelle questioned, hopeful.

"If that is what you want then that is what it shall be," Elphaba said, her voice muffled by Fiyero's shoulder. "But what shall I wear? White will stand out too much on my green skin, it will look silly."

"It will look fine," Fiyero said.

"And you should stand out anyway," Glinda added. "It is your day. You deserve to stand out."

Elphaba pulled away from Fiyero and twisted around to look at Glinda. "It is _our_ day. And besides, you're to only wear white on your wedding day if you are without sin. Which I am not. White is not for me. And I am not meant for grand celebrations. A wedding, as grand as I know you want Glinda, scares me, to be truthful. I am not comfortable being the center of attention."

"You a green witch, you always the center of attention," Mirelle spoke up, innocently.

Elphaba stiffened. "Mirelle," she chastised. "Don't speak of things you do not understand."

"Fae, don't get upset," Fiyero said. "She meant no harm. She is just a child. And white will be fine, you deserve it."

"But I have sinned!"

"We all have," Glinda spoke up, her voice quiet.

"But I was a whore!"

The room went silent at Elphaba's outburst. The green woman stood up, agitated, and began to pace in an erratic path. "I am not meant to be a wife," she muttered to herself, forgetting for a moment that she was not alone. "I have sinned, I _am_ sin! I am tainted and used… I am not meant for marriage. Marriage is structure, dependence, holy… everything that I am not. I cannot be a wife!"

"Fae… please…" Fiyero stood up and took a hold of Elphaba's arm, stopped her frantic movements. "Calm down… please!"

"I cannot calm down!" Elphaba screamed. "I cannot do this! This is… this is commitment! To marry you is to commit myself to this palace! To this family! I cannot even commit to myself! This will only end in disaster! Can't you see that?"

"Fae… please… don't worry about such a thing. You're going to work yourself into one of your fits, you don't want that, do you?"

"Shut-up!" Elphaba snapped as she ripped her arm out of his grasp. "This is… this isn't… I am a whore! I am tainted! I am the embodiment of sin! I am everything unholy! I am the aberration! I am the wrong! _I cannot do this_!" Her words tumbled from her mouth and her chest ached, as if she was not breathing.

She wasn't.

Fiyero tried to reach for her again but she shrunk away from him. "Leave me alone!" she shrieked. "Leave! Now!"

"I'm not leaving with you like this. You need to breathe, you're going to faint!"

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Elphie," Glinda spoke up; her voice meek. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Elphaba froze at Glinda's words and turned to face her blonde friend. So rarely had she been given a choice in her life that to have one now was more frightening than getting married itself was. She had been forced to obey her father by his own cruel hand. She had been forced to be a caretaker to her sister. She had been forced to bear the brutal end of callous teenagers and their teasing. She had been forced to be the vessel to give Avaric pleasure. She had been forced into prostitution – a life of a whore. She had been forced to escape such a horrible life by Malky. The only choices she had ever made in her life were to defy the Wizard and to let herself carry on an affair with Fiyero. And both those choices had ended up in disaster; she had been labeled the Wicked Witch and forced to live alone and she had caused Fiyero's near death and following imprisonment in the Southstairs.

Choices, she realized, only ended in disaster with her. Yet still, this was a chance to be different, to make a change in the despairing path life dragged her down. She stared at the diamond ring upon her finger; examining it. She turned around to look at her sister's jeweled shoe upon her mantle.

She breathed. She felt her chest heave with the effort and the burning in her lungs subsided as the oxygen flowed through her body once again. Her panic attack faded away and sense and reason returned to her.

"I didn't have a fit," she muttered, still staring at Nessa's lone shoe. "I should have. A month ago I would have. Perhaps… perhaps the doctor had been right. Perhaps he really did help me."

Glinda shared a knowing look with Fiyero and the Vinkus prince understood that it was time for him to take his leave. He took a hold of Mirelle's hand and left, quietly closing the door behind him. Glinda walked to Elphaba's side and took a hold of a green hand in reassurance. "You are not what you said you were. You know that, right?"

Elphaba nodded, not taking her eyes off of Nessa's shoe. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I shouldn't have said what I did. I just… sometimes I freak out over things that bring upon change."

"You freak out about things that bring upon your own happiness. I can't say I'm surprised though. Happiness is foreign to you, which is not right, but that is the truth."

Elphaba looked at Glinda, their eyes met, and smiled. The joy she felt could even be seen in her eyes, which was rare, and she seemed to be glowing. "We're getting married!" she squealed. "Oh Glinda, I never thought that any man would ever ask such a thing of me! And us… together… the three of us! I just cannot believe it!"

"I know!" Glinda was just as ecstatic. "I had no idea! Fiyero… it was such a surprise, wasn't it?" She giggled. "What a birthday present for you!"

"I've had many birthdays, most not worthy of remembering, but I still remember the one I had at Shiz. Don't you remember? You weren't talking to me then, I cannot remember why now, but you bought me those purple gloves."

"They matched your dress perfectly."

"It was one of the only birthday presents I have ever received. And during my time in isolation in Kiamo Ko, during the time I swear I briefly went insane, it was one of the memories I latched on to. I made it, in my mind, out to be one of the most perfect days in my life – even though it was far from it. But this, this is far more perfect. These two gifts… Nessa's shoe and our engagements… is far more than I ever thought I would be granted. Today, Glinda, is my perfect day."

Glinda nodded, joyful. "You will wear white though, won't you?" she asked. "It just wouldn't be the same if you didn't."

Elphaba turned her head to look at the mantle again; stared at Nessa's lone shoe. "I miss her," she whispered. "For all her religious insanity and tyranny she was still my sister. I only wish I could have done more for her. Sometimes I wonder… if I had been there with her, through it all, if she would still be alive. If I had just stayed by her side, like I ought to have, would she have turned out more… normal… would have had more of a coping mechanism than just her religion."

"She made her decisions, she chose the life she led. Her death was not your fault, you must know that."

"I knew she was going to die before she did. If I had only acted sooner I might have been able to save her."

"Might have, but there is no guarantee on such a thing. You are powerful Elphie, but even you cannot stop death."

"I did with Fiyero. He should have died that day, in that stupid corn exchange. But he didn't. He survived, somehow, and the only explanation I have ever come up with is myself and my magick."

"You're magick does tend to present itself when the ones you care for are in danger, doesn't it?" Glinda mused. "Perhaps there is a reason to why you cannot control it… to prevent you from becoming mad with the power. Maybe that is the logic behind your failed attempts at controlling it."

Elphaba shrugged. "I did what I had to, to help Mirelle. And it has drained me, made my magick weak and useless. It will be a long time before I can dare to attempt even small and meager spells. But that is that, and there is nothing I can do to change it."

Glinda squeezed Elphaba's hand. "Will you wear white though, at the wedding?" she asked, trying to bring Elphaba back onto the topic that concerned her most at the moment.

"Would it really mean that much to you?"

"Yes."

"Then I shall, but only for you."

Glinda squealed. "Truly?" she questioned in disbelief. "You really will?"

Elphaba looked at the far too excited blonde and smiled. "I would do anything for you, don't you know that by now?"

"Oh, oh Elphie!"

Elphaba laughed, quietly. "Well then, when is this wedding going to be?"


	46. Chapter Forty Five

_Elphaba laughed, quietly. "Well then, when is this wedding going to be?"_

--

**Chapter Forty-Five:**

"The colour of your skin never ceases to amaze me," he whispered, his hot breath tickling her ear, "even after all these years."

She struggled to breathe, felt her heart constricting in her throat. He pushed her against the wall as his hands roamed down the sides of her body; caressing her in a way that would almost be loving, would almost be caring, if it were not for the fact of who he was and what he had done to her time and time again.

"I'd like to see if those scars are still there or if they have faded with the passage of time," he continued in the same husky whisper. He traced a line of kisses from the bottom of her ear, across her jaw line, and down her neck. His hands went to his belt and in seconds he had his pants and undergarments off and kicked to the side.

She looked over his shoulder, past him, to try and block out what was happening. She felt powerless, as she always did when he got her in such a position, and she wondered what logic had brought her to his house in the first place. She had wanted only to talk to him but never, in her entire life, had her attempts at just a conversation with him ended up anywhere but where she was right now.

His left hand trailed down to her thigh, his right hand snuck its way up the hem of her dress. She shivered, tormented, and had to close her eyes to keep her tears at bay. He struck her then, to make her open her eyes, and when she did she caught sight of the butcher's knife on the kitchen counter – just a few feet away.

Then there was blood. She hadn't even realized that she had pushed past him, that she had ran to the kitchen, until she saw the blood and heard him screaming and cursing at her. She told him to shut-up, yelled at him even, but he wouldn't. She couldn't stand his voice anymore and something inside of her snapped.

She just wanted him to be quiet.

Then he was. He was quiet because he was crumpled on the floor, half-naked, and clutching at his neck. She watched him – squirming and trembling and choking on his own blood – until he stopped and everything went silent.

When her brain finally caught up with her body, and she registered what she had done, her face morphed into an expression of utter horror. She stumbled backwards, catching herself on the kitchen table where she had first seen the knife, and stared at his now unmoving body. She didn't know how long she stood there, staring, but she found that she could not move – that she was frozen by the terror she felt within herself.

Then her broom was suddenly there, near her, flying over from where she had dropped it near the entrance. She couldn't say if she had called it over with her magick or if it had come of its own accord but she didn't particularly care either way. She watched it, floating in front of her, because it was easier to watch it then to watch his lifeless body growing cold.

She grabbed her satchel, which had been left – discarded – on the floor, and ran. She stumbled over her own feet, still too shocked to move properly, and the broom followed her. She shoved the knife into her bag, letting it rest beside the Grimmerie, and mounted the enchanted broom as soon as she was outside. She flew as high as she dared to in hopes that the cold air would clear her mind, would erase what she had done. But it didn't.

The fact remained – she had killed.


	47. Chapter Forty Six

_She had killed._

--

**Chapter Forty-Six:**

Fiyero pushed the door open, not bothering to knock, and scanned the bedroom to find the person he was in search of. He found her, sitting on the balcony. She had dragged the cushioned chair from within her room outside and situated it so that its back faced the balcony's doors. As a result the high back of the chair hid the person sitting within it.

But he knew it was her because he could see her green arm, the one with no hand, hanging over the side of the chair – swinging listlessly back and forth. He crossed the room, silently, and noticed that her charred magicked broom laid on her unmade bed instead of being propped in the corner like it usually was.

He knew she had been drinking the moment he laid eyes on her. Her eyes were hazy and the blood that stained her simple frock was enough to give away the fact that she had done what he had suspected her of.

"Avaric was murdered this afternoon," he said, matter-of-factly, as he perched himself on the balcony's railing, right in her line of sight.

"Really?" Elphaba tried to feign shock but failed miserably. Fiyero couldn't tell if she was drunk or just upset, or a mixture of both.

"He was found castrated and with his throat slit. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Course not."

"So that's not Avaric's blood on you? And that's not his blood on that knife lying beside your broom?"

She didn't reply. Instead she took a large gulp from the bottle of whiskey she held in her hand. She was shaking, he noticed, and her eyes were red. He just didn't know if they were red because she was drunk or because she was trying desperately not to cry.

"Not a murderer," she muttered; her voice trembling and slightly slurred. "Not a murderer," she repeated, as if she was trying to convince herself.

"You killed him. People saw you, on your broom. Were you drunk when you went to him?"

"I saw the list," she whispered; speaking of the guest list to the wedding. "His name, it was on the paper."

"He is a high-class political figure. It would be suspicious to not invite him, surely you must have realized that."

"I wanted wedding to be happy."

"It will be."

"Not with Avaric."

Fiyero sighed. "So it _was_ you, wasn't it?"

She nodded, barely, and dropped her gaze to stare at the bottle she held on her lap. "Will I go to Southstairs?" she asked, petrified.

"Only if they can prove it was you. So far they only have the word of a few citizens against you but no solid proof."

"You not tell them?" She looked up at him, hopeful.

"Now why would I do such a thing?"

"I sorry."

"I know."

"I was wrong."

Fiyero shook his head. "He deserved what he got. He made his bed, you just finally forced him to lay in." He slid of the balcony railing and approached Elphaba, took the bottle from her hand and set it on the floor. "What you did wasn't right but it was justified. He hurt you, terribly, and he must have known that one day you would find the strength to return the favour."

"I went to talk to him," she muttered. "He wanted sex. I saw knife on cooking top and I took it. I only want to stop him but he just… I remembered… I got so angry! I couldn't control myself. It just… the fury… it took over! I never meant to kill him! But he was there… standing in front of me… no pants! I just did it! I cut him down there, and he was screaming! And he wouldn't stop! So I just went to shut him up! But the knife went deep! And he started to bleed! It didn't stop! I got scared so I grab the knife and left! I sorry! I don't want to be a murderer anymore! I so sorry!" She tried to stand up, agitated, but Fiyero placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her sitting.

"I know you are," he said. "I know you didn't mean to go so far. But you did, and we cannot change what happened."

Elphaba sniffled. "Do you think he love me?" she asked. "He always want sex. Do you think he love me, in some way?"

Fiyero sighed. "We used to go for drinks together, way back before our affair in the Emerald City, and one day he confessed that had you not been green he would have. So yes, I think he did. But he also loved power and being in control… which is why he could not stand the fact that he could never break you like he wanted to."

She nodded. "I thought so." She seemed to slump into her chair, defeated. "He hurt me," she muttered. "He hurt me so damn much!"

"I know he did." Fiyero settled himself into the oversized chair and Elphaba melted into his body. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She rested her head into the crook created between his shoulder and neck. "I don't blame you for what you did, I know how emotions and pain can make one do bad things."

"Have you kill someone?"

Fiyero shook his head. "I've never killed someone. I have hurt people, I've almost killed someone, but I have never crossed over that line."

"It's horrible, to know you're capable of such a horrendous act."

"How much did you drink? You seem to be sobering up quite fast."

Elphaba shrugged, half-heartedly. "Not that much," she confessed. "I fear it, the alcohol, now. I fear what I become with it."

"I'm glad you have some fear in you about it. I hope it helps."

"It does."

"I told Glinda about Avaric… about how I suspected you were behind it."

"Of course you tell her," Elphaba muttered and she sounded slightly bitter.

"She should not be lied to, you know that."

Elphaba let out a heavy sigh. "I know it wrong but I feel… better… now that he dead. Is that wicked of me?"

"I cannot say."

"I always afraid that one day, like the day of Mirelle's birthday, he would come back to hurt me. Now I don't fear that anymore because he dead… he never be able to use me now. I feel safer, with him gone… with him dead."

"Saying that worries me."

"Why?"

"Because it makes me think that you would not hesitant to do such a thing again if it meant riding this world of those that have hurt you. Are you about to fly off to the Gillikin to murder the Wizard next? Then perhaps all the men that raped you when you lived under Letozay's roof?"

"Fiyero!" Elphaba pulled away from him and her face reflected her shock and horror at what he was saying.

"I fear you have tested the sweetness of revenge," he continued; unfazed by her reaction, "and now you will not stop."

"I not going on some insane killing spree!" she snapped out. She stood up and began to pace, to rid herself of her agitation. "Though," she continued in a mere whisper, "the idea has crossed my mind once… or twice… before." She hugged her arms around herself as she paced, trying to stave off the sudden chill that had settled in her bones.

Fiyero watched her, silently. "I can imagine."

"Would be scours of men. Hundreds, if not thousands. Thousands I would have to kill."

"I would not be able to protect you, if you elect to do such a thing. You would be thrown in the Southstairs."

"If they catch me."

"It sounds as if you have a plan… as if you have thought this all out before."

Elphaba finally stopped pacing and looked at Fiyero. "I have," she said, "many times."

"Does the desire for revenge truly burn in you that strongly?"

She looked stricken with grief as she stood there, shivering in the cold that came not from the air but from within herself. "Yes," she muttered and it was clear that she was ashamed of her answer. "To watch them die, to see them suffer, every last one of them… it would bring me great joy." She looked to the floor, studying the stone tiles of the balcony and their strange pattern. "I used to drink to drown out the images of myself killing them. But no matter how much I drank I could still see the blood as it stained my hands. I was afraid of myself, of what I would do, so I drank and let myself succumb to the grip of drugs so I wouldn't do such horrible things."

"Yet you did with Avaric," Fiyero said, noticing that Elphaba's sentences were starting to sound more connected – that she was starting to sober up – and he hoped to get some truthful answers out of her, for once. "What was the difference? Why was he the one that you chose to kill? Did Letozay not harm your more? Or your father, what of him? Did he not tear your soul more than Avaric? Yet you never killed him even though I'm sure that you've had plenty of opportunities to do such a thing."

"I don't know."

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?"

"I don't have an answer. I cannot tell you why I did what I did to Avaric. Or why he was the one I chose to let myself exact my revenge on. I truly do not know."

"That seems odd to me, you know, that you have no answer to justify why you murdered him. It's a decision that you surely did not take lightly, or did you? Should I be more concerned for your mental stability than I am?"

Silence. Elphaba studied her feet for a few long minutes; Fiyero waited for a response. "Maybe you should be," she finally answered and her voice was so quiet that Fiyero wasn't even sure he had heard her correctly. But when she did not look up to meet his eyes he knew that he had.

"I don't think you're insane." He stood up and tried to approach her but she stepped away from him and would not let herself be touched.

"I'm not sane either," she muttered.

"Who has the right to claim what 'sane' really is anyways?"

"Not me, I can assure you that."

"Fae, why talk of such despairing things?"

"Because I have killed!" she snapped out, finally looking at him. "I am a monster! I am evil for only evil people kill! Did I ever tell you that I was the sole cause behind Manek's death? Because I was! I killed him! I made that icicle fall on his head with my magick!"

Fiyero's face morphed from an expression of shock into one of horror. "You killed my firstborn son?" he asked in a breathless whisper. "Why?"

"I was angry! He almost killed Liir in that damned fishwell! And Liir was all I had remaining of you!" Her eyes welled up with fresh tears and she turned her back to Fiyero, closed her eyes, and cupped her hand over her mouth and nose – tried to steady her breathing and calm herself.

She heard Fiyero fleeing her presence, the door to her room slamming shut, and she had to choke back a sob. She turned around suddenly and lurched for the bottle of whiskey that he had left on the balcony's floor. She gulped down nearly half the bottle in one quick, deft movement and then stood, shaking. The air was completely still around her and the setting sun warmed her skin yet still she trembled with cold – only the coldness was coming from within her soul.

She stared at the door across the room, the door that Fiyero had fled through, for more time than she could keep track of. She took a deep breath and stumbled into her room, not bothering to close the balcony's doors. The nearly empty bottle of whiskey slipped from her grasp and shattered against the floor – she didn't even notice.

She flung her door open and quickly found a guard. "Where did he go?" she asked, frantic, but the guard only looked at her in confusion. "Fiyero!" she cried out. "Where did he go!"

The guard was taken aback by Elphaba's outburst but he managed to nod his head in the direction he had seen the Vinkus prince run off in. Elphaba stumbled down the hall, clearly feeling the effects of the last drink she had taken, and desperately searched for her lover. She was suddenly terrified of being left alone, terrified of what she might do to herself or to others.

She turned a corner and saw Fiyero standing with his forehead against the wall and his eyes tightly shut. He was clearly trying to reign in his emotions and get himself under control.

"Fiyero?" she whispered, afraid of startling him. He jumped slightly and turned to face her, his eyes flashing.

"You were right!"

"Of what?" she asked even though she was terrified of the answer she would receive.

"You're insane!" he spat out. "And a murderer! A monster! You _killed_ my son!"

"I didn't mean to," she whispered as she found it difficult to choke her voice out around the lump that had settled in her throat.

"Just like you didn't mean to kill Avaric?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Is that your generic excuse? That you can't control your emotions? Well you know what Elphaba, everyone else can! And everyone else has to! You know why? Because everyone else in this world has to follow the law! Why do you think you are above such a thing! Why do you think that you can do anything you want just because you think it's the _right thing_ to do! The world doesn't function on people's morality – it functions on the law! And you are _not above the law_!"

"Fiyero, please! I'm sorry! I just… I didn't mean to do it! It just happened! I was upset and my magick… it just wanted to help me!"

"Your magick is not a separate being from you! It doesn't have its own mind! _You_ control it! _You_ are responsible for it! Whatever it does it does because some part of you, no matter how small, made it do that! Your magick didn't kill Manek… _you_ did! Stop blaming everything and everyone else and start taking responsibility for your own fucked up actions!" With every word Fiyero had said he had taken another step closer to Elphaba until he was almost on top of her. He towered over her cowering frame and she wanted desperately to run from him, to find somewhere or someone that could protect her from his fury, but she was too terrified to move.

"Please… don't hit me," she begged. "Don't hurt me!"

"Why? Because then you'll kill me? Then you'll cut off _my_ penis and slice _my_ throat!"

"I'm sorry! What more do you want from me? What more do you want me to do!"

"Get yourself together!"

"I'm trying!" Elphaba was so close to crying now that she swore she could feel the skin near her eyes burning. "I'm trying so damn much that if I try anymore I feel like I'm going to crack! Please Fiyero… please… believe me… I beg of you… just believe me…"

"I've spent nearly my whole life believing in you only for you to keep letting me down! How long can I let this go on? How long do you expect me to give up my entire life for you? All you do is take and take and take! I only have so much to give Fae… there's only so much of me that I can give away… can't you see that?"

"I know!" Elphaba snapped out. "Do you think I never realized that? I know I'm selfish! I know I'm a freak! I know I'm a monster and a failure and nothing but one giant mistake but this is me! This is who I am! Drinking, drugs, panic attacks, freak outs… this is me whether you like that or not! My life has turned me into who I am and there's nothing I can do about it! Why can't _you_ understand _that_?"

"I do! I was locked in the Southstairs for years! Over a decade! I barely saw a single person! I saw people around me being killed on the Wizard's orders for _no reason_! You were imprisoned by Letozay and raped night after night – I was imprisoned by the Wizard and never saw a single person for years except the guard that brought me my food. I have _hurt_ Elphaba! You're not the only one in this world that has been wronged!"

"I only wish I had been locked in the Southstairs! Seclusion and solitude would have been a welcome relief from the torment I endured every night!"

"You say that now but if you… if you had just… if you had been there… seen what I've seen… you just… you could never understand!" Fiyero was so furious that he could hardly speak; could hardly keep himself under control.

"And neither could you!"

"Do not diminish my pain! Don't you dare to even think to tell me that my pain is no greater than yours!"

"It isn't!"

He struck her. His backhand caught her across the temple and sent her stumble to the side with its force. She managed to stay standing only by catching herself on the hallway's wall. She stayed there, hunched over, for a few long moments where neither one dared to breathe. Then slowly she looked up to lay eyes on Fiyero, her lover – her fiancé, standing before her with an anger so great that his whole body was trembling with the force of it.

She slowly brought her left hand to her mouth where her teeth grabbed a hold of the diamond on her ring and she slid it off her finger. She kept it grasped between her teeth for nearly two whole minutes where Fiyero did not dare to even blink.

She spat it at him.

It hit him in the chest and bounced off. The sound it made as it struck the stone floor echoed throughout the hall. They both watched it as it rolled in an erratic path for a few seconds before finally coming to a stop.

Then Elphaba ran. She turned and fled down the way she had come but she did not stop at her room. She kept running until she reached Fiyero's study where she burst inside, throwing the door shut behind her so forcefully that it nearly ripped it right out of its hinges. She went to his desk and searched, frantically, for what she knew must be there.

"There's no gun there."

She froze at the sound of his voice but she quickly went back to searching the desk; hoping to ignore him until he went way. But he didn't.

"Do you think I would keep my gun, let alone any gun, in a place you could so easily find it after what you have done before?" Fiyero said and his voice was softer now, more caring. "I would never risk such a thing just incase."

"Incase of what?" Elphaba snapped out as she stood up and whirled around to face him.

"Incase you would become so frantic, so despairing, that you would try to kill yourself again. Like you are doing right now."

She stared at Fiyero, trying to find the anger within her that had been there just moments before. But it was gone. Her bottom lip started to tremble and she began to look like a little lost child who only wished to find a way home. She sunk to her knees and hugged her arms around herself, trying to comfort herself but failing to do so.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed as she let herself become distraught. "I'm sorry for what I am! For who I am! For the monster that I have let myself become! I'm so sorry!"

Fiyero approached her and kneeled down in front of her. She did not protest as he took her hand and pulled it away from her body – slipped the ring back onto her finger. And then he embraced her, letting her bury her head into his chest and clutch onto his shirt in desperation. He didn't say a word because he didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what to feel. He was furious at her for what she had done – killing Avaric in the present and his own son in the past – but he could not ignore the fact that she was crying out for help.

No matter her efforts, no matter how many times she tried to better herself, it all seemed to be in vain. She always seemed to end up back where she started; distraught, disgusted with herself, and unable to make rational decisions. It truly was a pitiful life that made him ache inside and also made it impossible for him to stay angry at her. She needed him. She always had. She could not live alone because she had never, in her entire life, been required to make her own choices and decisions. She had lived by her father's rules, and then Shiz University's rules, then the Resistance's rules, then Letozay's rules, and finally the rules that Glinda and himself had laid down. They had been to help her, he had thought, but he realized that all they had been doing had only harmed her – had only made her incapable of making rational decisions by herself.

He suddenly realized, at that very moment that he was holding her close to him, that Elphaba Thropp was truly just a child; a frightened child who had no coping mechanisms and no ability nor strength to fend for herself. She had never been taught how to and she simply did not know. Every time that she had come close to become independent, to becoming self-assured, she became frightened by the responsibility and somehow always managed to send herself spiraling backwards again. It was a tiring and repetitive game that himself and Glinda had unknowingly helped to prolong. Elphaba needed to be forced into making her own decisions if she ever hoped to gain independence.

Fiyero just wasn't sure that she truly wanted to be independent.


	48. Chapter Forty Seven

_Fiyero just wasn't sure that she truly wanted to be independent._

--

**Chapter Forty-Seven:**

"I found this this morning," Glinda said as she dropped the bag she held on Elphaba's desk as the green woman studied the Grimmerie, "in Nessa's shoe. I cannot believe that you have taken to hiding drugs in Nessa's shoe… in _your_ shoe!"

Elphaba stared at the incriminating bag that now sat, mocking her, on the Grimmerie's pages. "You had no right to go through my things," she said quietly but though she was angry she did not sound as such.

"The day that you chose to be high around my daughter was the day that you chose to give me that right!" Glinda snapped back and the blonde did not bother to try and hide the anger from her voice.

"I was sleeping in my room this morning. How could you have gone through my things without me knowing?"

"You were so passed out from the drugs that a war outside your very window would not have awoken you!"

"You're angry."

"I have every right to be angry!"

"What I choose to take is just that… my choice."

"Not when it involves my daughter!"

"I'm not giving my drugs to Mirelle so I do not see what the problem is."

Glinda slammed her hand on the desk which finally drew Elphaba's eyes from the bag to her friend's furious face. "Mirelle has seen you high!" Glinda screeched. "And she was scared! You don't understand because you cannot remember how ridiculous you act when you are high!"

Elphaba stayed silent, simply staring at Glinda with little life left in her eyes. It scared the blonde, to see Elphaba like she was, but she was determined not to let her compassion overtake her anger. She had to be a parent now, no matter how much it hurt her to yell at the broken green woman before her.

"Don't you care!" Glinda continued. "Doesn't it hurt you to know that you have scared Mirelle!"

"It was not my intention."

"Intentional or not is not the problem here! You cannot be around her when you are high! For Oz's sake you shouldn't even be high to begin with! I thought you had given them up! I thought you were over them!"

"One is never truly over an addiction. I would think that, by now, you would have realized that."

"Does this even bother you at all? Do you care at all for the pain you have caused our daughter!"

"Yes."

"You're not acting like it!"

"Because I'm high," Elphaba replied and her words were such a shock that Glinda was temporarily at a loss for words. "It's hard to care for anything when you are high… it's why people chose to become high."

"So you just get high and study the Grimmerie?" Glinda asked in shock. "_That_ is what you have been doing this entire time since Avaric's death? _That_ is what has kept you holed up in your room for all these weeks? You are… you are unbelievable!"

Elphaba stood up and turned her back to Glinda; slowly walked over to the opened doors at her balcony. "Well believe it," she whispered, "because it is true."

"You are… you are pathetic!" Glinda screeched. "Look at you – you can't even face me!"

"I never intended for you to see me high ever again."

"Yet Mirelle can?"

"She is a child, I did not think she would notice… or care. If I have harmed her then I am sorry, it was not my intention."

Glinda stormed over to Elphaba and grabbed her shoulder, forcefully turned the green woman around. "Look at me! Damn it Elphie! Just look at me!"

"Why?" Elphaba asked as she stared Glinda directly in the eyes, a scowl plaster on her face. "So you can see the true monster I am? So you can see the murderer that lays within me?"

"So that I can see that some part of you, no matter how small, still cares about her friends and family!"

"All I do is harm those around me. I have no friends, no family. Don't you see? It's easier that way."

"Not for us!"

"That is your problem, not mine."

"It's my feelings! My emotions! And _you_ are part of _my_ life! So it is your problem just as much as it is mine!"

"I need glasses."

Glinda's mouth dropped opened in dumbfounded shock at Elphaba's completely irrelevant statement but the blonde knew that it was due to the drugs. Yet still it shocked her. "You need… glasses?" she repeated, not sure that she had heard correctly.

"Yes. Don't you remember? I had glasses back at Shiz. I've had them since I was nine, I think. Perhaps that is why the Grimmerie is so hard for me to read now. Maybe I just need to get glasses again."

"What happened to your old ones, to the ones you used to wear at Shiz?"

Elphaba shrugged. "I lost them along the way, I think. Or perhaps a cruel classmate broke them… just for shits and giggles. Kids did stuff like that to me, tormented me, just because they could. Just because I was different. Just because I was green."

"Are you doing drugs again because of what you did to Avaric?" Glinda asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

"Because of how I killed him? Yes."

"But why?"

"Because I am a murderer and if left to my own devices I _will_ murderer. I cannot allow that. Don't you see? I'm protecting the people around me. If I'm high I don't feel pain and if I don't feel pain then there is no need for revenge and if there is no need for revenge then there is no chance of me murdering."

"You seem to have thought this out."

"I have."

Glinda raised her hand and brushed a strand of loose hair off of Elphaba's face, tucked it behind her ear. The green woman flinched at the touch but forced herself not to pull away. "You frighten me, how easily you will let yourself fall back to the drugs," Glinda muttered. "Has all your work been for naught? Are you really willing to give up everything because of one mistake you made?"

"This wasn't the first mistake. But it damn well will be my last!" Elphaba shocked herself at the level of emotion in her voice.

"It seems that the drugs don't take all the feelings away, do they? Part of you still cares, part of you will _always_ care, no matter what you do." Glinda's hand trailed down Elphaba's face, making both women shiver, until it rested on her chest – just below her collarbone. "You told me you loved me, I said I never could feel the same towards you. Now, now I know why."

"I will never be able to save myself."

"I can't love a broken person. I cannot live without guarantees. I'm so sorry Elphie but this… this life… it can't go on like this. Something has to change."

"That something has to be me, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"Change or leave – is that what you're telling me?"

"Yes."

"And Fiyero says –"

"Fiyero doesn't matter," Glinda interrupted. "I'm the only one here with a solid head on their shoulders. If Fiyero leaves because you do than that is his choice, I won't stop him. But I am thinking of Mirelle… and sometimes I think I'm the only one who does. Her life is chaotic and it cannot stay that way less she turns out like you."

"This is who I am. This is me. I cannot change the poison in my soul."

"I believe you can."

"Your belief means nothing if _I_ don't believe. And I don't Glinda. That is a fact. I cannot change. I have tried and tried and I'm just so damn tired of trying! I just… I've found that I don't seem to care anymore."

Glinda dropped her hand from Elphaba's chest and took a green hand in her own. She fingered the engagement ring that sat there – a mirrored image of her own. "You promised to marry Fiyero… to marry _us_… don't you love him still? Don't you want a family of your own?"

Elphaba pulled her hand from Glinda's grasp and felt a shudder go through her body. She was beginning to crumble inside; the drugs affect on her starting to wear off. "Sometimes I wonder if I ever really loved him or if I just loved the idea of him. And of… of a family."

"It doesn't have to be an idea anymore. It doesn't have to be just a dream. It can be reality, if you would let it be. If you would just give up the drugs."

"It seems like such an easy choice – drugs or family – but yet I find it to be such an impossible decision."

"The right choice is not always the easiest choice. But you know that already, don't you? You chose to go against the Wizard, back when we were all so very young, and that was the right choice. I chose to go with the Wizard, and that was the easy choice. I've led a relatively easy life but full of worry and guilt. You've led an impossibly hard life but with the knowledge that you did the right thing, that you were making a difference… no matter how small." Glinda wrapped her arms around Elphaba's waist and pulled the trembling green woman close to her so that they stood back to chest. "That's worth something."

"What?"

"Pride. Joy. There are many things you have done in your life that I could never have fathomed. You are so strong Elphie, I just wish you could see that in yourself."

"A strong person does not need drugs, does not need alcohol, and most certainly does not need the relief that hurting one's self brings. I am not strong… I am a façade."

"You only wish you were a façade because then it would be easier to give up on life."

"I wish I didn't care so much."

"I know."

"I wish I could be better, could do better."

"I know."

"I wish I could forget."

"I know."

"I wish I could just heal!"

"I know."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all my failures. For all my pitiful attempts that have turned into nothing but disaster. I try. And every time I do I only fail in the end. I'm tired of trying."

"If you give up now then all that effort and time was for nothing. Do you really want to throw all your hard work away?"

Elphaba brought her hand up to Glinda's and gently peeled the blonde's arms off of her body and stepped away, giving herself room to breathe. "I don't know."

"Yes you do. You know the answer. Why can't you just say it?"

"I'm afraid I cannot do it. I'm afraid I cannot succeed."

"Fear drives desperation and desperation drives fear. We're here to help you, to listen, if you would just allow yourself to be helped!"

Elphaba wrapped her arms around her stomach in an attempt to will away the nausea that had settled in her as the drug's effects began to wear off. "It's starting to hurt again," she muttered. "I can't stand it!"

Glinda stepped forward and took Elphaba's hand in her own again. "I'm here for you… even if all I can do is be here and nothing more."

Elphaba squeezed Glinda's hand tightly to offer herself some sort of measure of comfort. "Will you allow me, one more time?"

"To use again?" Glinda clarified. When Elphaba nodded her head Glinda shook hers. "No," the blonde replied and the strength in her voice made the green woman realize that she would not be able to use Glinda's compassion for her own destructive needs anymore. "It is never just one more time," Glinda said quietly. "Never. If you use again you will be on the street, as much as that hurts me to say. You cannot stay here as you are. Perhaps now, with such a despairing future in your mind, you may be able to kick those horrible drugs once and for all."

Elphaba frowned then nodded before slipping her hand from Glinda's grasp and returning to her desk. The blonde watched in horror as Elphaba grabbed the bag – fearing that her friend had chosen the drugs and the street over the prospect of a family and love – and followed, tentatively, as Elphaba went to her practically useless bathing room. But as she entered, a step behind Elphaba, she felt relief flood through her entire being.

Elphaba stood at the sink, the tap running, and was carefully shaking the drugs from the bag and watching them turn into paste in the stone sink before being washed down the drain.

"There is something wrong with me… something inherently wrong with me," Elphaba whispered; her voice so quiet that Glinda could barely hear her above the noise of the running water. "Something is missing. Something must be patched. There is a hole within me that needs to be filled. What will fill that now, if not the drugs?"

"Let us," Glinda answered but she stayed by the door, afraid of startling Elphaba by moving to close to her. "Let us be the missing piece within you."

"I have done a lot of bad things," Elphaba said as she dropped the now empty bag in the sink and turned the tap off. "And I'm a really bad person but… but I hope to be a good person, if you will just give me yet another chance."

"You can have all the chances in the world as long as I know that you will never stop trying."

"Just please, promise me this one thing."

"What?"

"Do not cast me out onto the streets." Elphaba turned pleading eyes to Glinda. "Do not send me out to survive only as a whore. I could not do, not again, never again!"

"That is not my choice to make… that is yours."

"But –"

"Perhaps the fear of such a life," Glinda interrupted, "will help to keep you sober."

Elphaba's eyes widened in fear and horror. "You wouldn't, you couldn't, you never, you can't!"

"This is my house. It is my rules or nothing. The drugs and the street or sobriety and a family. The decision is yours… I only ask that you think long and hard over it."

"You can't turn me back into a whore!"

"If you become a prostitute again then that is brought about by your own decisions. You have a home here, and a family, if you only stay away from the drugs. That's all I ask of you… keep away from the drugs. Not the drinking, not the self-harm, just the drugs. Just the drugs."

Elphaba fled from the bathing room, nearly knocking Glinda down in her frantic escape, and ran from her room. Glinda stared at the now empty space in shock for a few moments before gathering her bearings and turning on her heels – following Elphaba as fast as she could. She caught a green arm in the hallway, forcing Elphaba to a screeching stop, and took the trembling green woman in her arms.

"I can't… I can't… I can't…" Elphaba muttered as she collapsed to her knees, bringing Glinda to the floor with her, and buried her head in the blonde's chest. "I can't go back to that!"

"I know," Glinda whispered as she rubbed soothing circles over Elphaba's back. "That makes the choice easier then, doesn't it?"

"I can't be a whore but I can't give up the drugs," Elphaba snapped out but her voice was muffled by Glinda's chest and lacked any strength due to the hiccupping sobs that choked at her throat. "You have given me an impossible choice!"

"I know right now it seems hard, impossible even. But please, try to look at is as choosing the lesser evil, if that helps at all."

"It doesn't!"

"Then what do you fear more then – living as a whore or living with nothing to numb the pain?"

"The life of a prostitute would only bring me more pain, and more drugs, and the cycle would never end. I just want it to be over!"

Glinda pulled away from Elphaba just enough so that she could catch the green woman's eyes. "Then that is your answer, is it not? You can end it now, right now, and I will be here to help you… _we_ will be here to help you."

Elphaba stared at Glinda with an expression of both confusion and understanding. Slowly but surely her mind began to wrap itself around the words that Glinda was saying and the logic her friend spoke of. A small smile began to grow on her face, which was an odd contrast to her blood-shot eyes, as she registered the decision she had just made. "You will throw me out then, if I touch the drugs again?"

"Yes."

"No matter for what reason?"

"No matter."

Elphaba nodded, slowly, as if she was weighing the pros and cons of some great and terrible decision. She stood up then, brushing at her eyes with the back of her sleeve, and then took Glinda's hand in her own – led the blonde by the hand down the hallway. Glinda was confused when Elphaba led her into one of the many spare guest rooms but said nothing on the matter as she was afraid of sounding accusing and sending Elphaba into silence.

"By the dresser, there is a loose board."

Glinda looked at Elphaba in confusion but found no answers on the green woman's face. She let her hand slip from Elphaba's grasp as she approached the dresser and then kneeled down. She knocked on the floor in a couple different spots before she heard a hollow sound coming back to her. She slid her perfectly manicured nails into the edge of the floorboard and gently pried it loose, setting it to the side.

"It's where I keep the most of them. Nessa's shoe – I don't even remember hiding any in there. But that tends to happen… I sometimes lose my memory when I am on them."

"Sometimes?" Glinda asked incredulously as she ever-so-carefully lifted the bottles of alcohol and bags of drugs from Elphaba's hiding place. "You never remember what you did or said when you're high."

"I do, sometimes."

"Rarely. Is this a needle?" Glinda asked as she delicately held the object, which was in fact a needle, in her hand. She twisted around to look at Elphaba over her shoulder. "Why would you _ever_ need a needle?"

"It's faster," she answered with a small shrug. "Sometimes I get desperate, if I haven't had it for a while, and I need it as fast as I can get it."

"How long? Honestly, how long have you been back on the drugs?"

"Since before I made Mirelle walk again. I used them to keep me up, to help me study the Grimmerie, to help me find a way to save her. I told myself I would stop as soon as I fixed her but then I did and I just… I never stopped. And then there was Avaric, and it got all so much worse after that."

"So it was my fault then, wasn't it? For pressuring you so?"

"No!" Elphaba shouted, far too forcefully. "You can never… my failures are not your fault! You cannot… you mustn't ever blame yourself!" Elphaba approached Glinda, suddenly frantic. "You just… you can't! Do you understand? You mustn't blame yourself for my inadequacies! They are mine, only mine!"

"You cannot accept the fact that some things in this world are not your fault, can you?"

"I am the embodiment of wrong! I am everyone's sins! I am the sin! Can't you see that? I! Am! The! Sin!"

"You're still high."

"Stop with the drugs!"

"But that is where your problem lies, how can I stop talking about them? It's why we're in the place we are. It's why you're acting the way you are. You're still high and you're high from the drugs. You aren't the sin Elphie, the drugs are."

Elphaba stared at Glinda in shock. The thought that the drugs were the cause of her problems and not the problems being the cause for her drug use had never crossed her mind. It seemed such a simple answer but yet no one had ever told her and she had been completely unable to come to such a realization on her own. The drugs had clouded her mind; had fooled her into thinking that she needed them to numb the pain when the fact was that the pain was caused by the drugs.

"The drugs… the drugs are the problem?"

It was now Glinda's turn to look confused. "You didn't know that?"

"No."

"You've never even had the inclination that the drugs are causing so many of your problems? That the drugs are the reason you are unable to heal the hurt of your past?"

Elphaba slowly shook her head back and forth. "It's not my fault, is it then?"

Glinda sighed and stood up. She took Elphaba's hand in her own and led the green woman to the bed where they both sat down. "You started using drugs again, which was your fault," Glinda answered as she made sure to keep eye contact her friend – so that Elphaba would know that she was serious. "But you're addicted to them, which I do not blame you for. And it's your addiction that is the problem now. But you must take responsibility for the drugs themselves, not the problems that they cause."

"It's the drugs… I never even thought of that. I always thought that they were helping, that they were there to help the pain. I never even comprehended the fact that they could be the cause of so much of my pain."

Glinda smiled but her eyes were full of sadness. "You never realized that," she muttered, more to herself than to Elphaba, with a short laugh. "Perhaps if I had just told you that sooner… perhaps then we could have helped you end this long ago…" Glinda trailed off and dropped her gaze to her lap. "It's true that I've enabled you, that both Fiyero and I have enabled you, and so part of the blame must lay on us. But still, the choice is ultimately yours… ultimately yours…"

"You don't sound very convinced."

"Tell me Elphie, how many times have we been in this place? How many times have you promised me that you will get better? That everything will be alright? It never lasts. It's true, you do good for the first little bit, but then you slip back into its grip. I've learnt now not to get my hopes up because I'm tired of having my heart crushed time and time again by you."

"I don't mean to hurt you."

"I know but that doesn't make it hurt any less."

"I'm sorry, for… for everything I've done. I never meant to drag you into this Hell of mine but I can't survive it on my own."

"And I don't have the heart to leave you behind. So here we are, in limbo once again, with fleeting promises muttered on the cusp of the wind."

"Perhaps the wind will stay this time, and the promises aren't as empty as they once were."

Glinda shrugged. "Only time will time. And time, it seems, has not been your friend." The blonde stood up, letting Elphaba's hand slip from her grasp. "I'll come back later, when you are not so high on the drugs, and see how you are doing. I won't hold my breath for your sobriety but I won't let go of all hope. The choice is yours, remember that, okay?"

"A family or drugs. Sobriety or prostitution. You have made your point clear, and sometimes I wonder why I still call you my friend."

"I wonder that myself," Glinda said; her tone somber, "every single day."


	49. Chapter Forty Eight

_"I wonder that myself," Glinda said; her tone somber, "every single day."_

--

**Chapter Forty-Eight:**

"Glinda please! You cannot do this!"

"You broke your promise and now I must uphold mine!" Glinda shouted as she held Elphaba's wrist far too tightly and all but dragged the green woman down the hall.

"I'm trying!"

"You knew the deal! You made your choice and now you must face the consequences!"

"Please! Glinda! I'm sorry!"

Glinda threw open the door to Elphaba's room and pushed her friend inside before following behind her. "I know," she said in a much quieter voice; a much sadder voice. "But you will never change unless you truly hit bottom. And it seems that the idea of bottom is just not enough for you, is it?"

"You cannot kick me out!"

"Gather your stuff Elphie, or what little stuff you have. I want you out by tomorrow morning, no excuses."

"Fiyero won't allow this!"

"Fiyero can choose to leave with you if he wishes but Mirelle and I are staying. You made your choice Elphie and it's clear to me now that the drugs mean more to you than any of us do."

"That's not true!"

"Then why did you go back to them!"

"I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry isn't good enough anymore!"

"You're condemning me into a life of a prostitution!"

"You made that choice the moment you sniffed up those drugs! If you become a whore again know that it was your decisions that led you there! Maybe once you are lying beneath those filthy men again you will come to realize how much this family truly means to you! But until that day you are not welcomed here!"

A green hand made contact with Glinda's cheek. The blonde closed her eyes briefly, to still her tears, before opening them again to make eye contact with her friend. "You will pay if you are still here when I wake up tomorrow," she spat out before turning on her heals and striding from the room; slamming the door behind her.

Elphaba sat herself down on her bed – her body slumped in defeat. She stared at a knot in the wood floor and waited. She didn't know what she was waiting for or how long she sat there but she did not move even as the door to her room was pushed open and someone sat down beside her.

"I'm coming with you."

Elphaba raised her head at the sound of Fiyero's voice and looked at him. She shook her head. "You can't," she whispered. "This is my life I have to fix, my soul I have to save. You must stay, for Mirelle. Little Mirelle. Darling Mirelle. She needs you more than I."

"You will have no option but to be a prostitute if you leave this house alone. I cannot allow that."

"Glinda was right, I made that choice myself. I will leave, like she wants me to. And I will come back one day, I promise you that, but not until I am sober. Until then do not try to find me for you know that if I do not want to be found then I cannot be found."

"This will break you."

"Or make me stronger."

"You are already within the grips of the drugs, this will not help."

"I need to get away from this, from you and Glinda. She was right – you are enabling me to do this. Perhaps… perhaps if I am on my own I will have no choice but to stay sober if only to keep myself alive."

"Or you will die from it."

"I'm not ready to die."

The statement was profound, was strong, was so un-Elphaba that Fiyero was stunned into silence. He stared at her and Elphaba, uncomfortable with such scrutiny, dropped her head to once again look at the knot in the floor that had just previously garnered so much of her attention.

Then she was on top of him, pinning him down against the bed. He was shocked at her frantic nature, at her fury and hunger for him, but he made no attempt to stop her. He knew she needed this – this one last time when it was for love and only love, not survival.

When they were done he held her naked body close; so they touched chest to chest. She was struggling to breathe after using for more energy then she should have. Her eyes were tightly shut and Fiyero just watched her as he held her. Watched her breathe, watched her relax, watched her stiffen as she tried to will away her nausea as the drugs began to filter from her system. He tangled his hand in her hair as he tried to take in every small detail of her – how she smelt, how she looked, how she felt against his skin – knowing that it could be years until he ever held her this close again.

"This could be the last time I ever see you, ever hold you."

"Don't talk like that," Elphaba murmured. "Let's just remember this moment as it is."

"How can I do that when I know that tomorrow you will be gone? That there is little chance you will ever come back to us?"

"I will." Elphaba opened her eyes to look at Fiyero and her eyes were full of love, though still hazed over slightly by the drugs. "It just… it might take a while."

"Or forever."

"Do you hold no hope for me anymore? Have you given up, just like Glinda?"

"No, I just live in reality."

"I hate reality."

"The problem with that is that it's real."

Elphaba scowled and rolled over so that her back faced Fiyero. He sighed in frustration. "Look," he said, "I don't mean to make you angry. It's just that… this is all so sudden. First I find out from the servants that Glinda has kicked you out and then, before I have even comprehended that fact, we are here… in bed together. I just, need a few moments to sort it all out."

"We don't have many moments left."

"I know that!"

"Then why are you trying to get me upset!" Elphaba screeched as rolled back over to face Fiyero again. "I'm already upset as it is! Do you think I'm happy about the fact that I have been kicked out! Do you think I want to leave! Do you think this is what I want!"

"You said –"

"I said it was what I needed! That doesn't mean I want it!"

"Fae… please… calm down."

Elphaba got up and began to pace, completely unaware that she was still stark naked. "How can I calm down? I have nowhere to go! I have no meaning to my life anymore! I am to be a whore again! How can I be calm about that? How!"

Fiyero sat up. "If you would let me come with you then –"

"No!"

"I don't understand."

"You never will!" Elphaba snapped out as she whirled around to face Fiyero. "You must stay here! Don't you see? I never had a family! I never got that chance! And I refuse to be the reason that Mirelle does not have one! You will stay for her, and that is final!"

Fiyero's expression softened as he watched Elphaba standing before him, so frantic and distressed. "She needs you just as much as Glinda and I," he whispered as he slid off the bed.

"I am a murderer! And a drug addict! I cannot be around her as I am! I will corrupt her! I will turn her into me! I just… I cannot allow that!"

Fiyero approached her, slowly, and gently took her into a tight embrace. She let her head rest on his chest and closed her eyes tightly to still her tears. "I don't want to go," she muttered, "but I know that I must."

"I fear you leaving here, I fear what will become of you."

"I broke my promise. I made my choice. And it seems that this timeGlinda is strong enough to truly make me face the consequences. I will do as she says, because she is right. I need this no matter how much I do not want it."

"She is wrong, for throwing you out."

"She is trying to help me."

"I don't see how forcing you into prostitution is going to help at all."

"Neither do I but I… I trust her. Even though I am furious at her a part of me still trusts her, still believes in her knowledge. She is only trying to help me. She has never intended to harm me, never, so why would she now?"

"If you need anything, and I mean anything at all, do not hesitate to come back here. I don't care what Glinda says… I don't care if she gets angry… you come back here the moment you get in over your head. Do you promise me that? Please… promise me that, okay? Will you promise?"

"I promise," Elphaba choked out. "But I don't intend to let things get that bad."

"Whether you intend them to or not does not matter. I know how cruel the world can be and I have seen how the filth of society has harmed you before. Come back to us before that happens for I don't know if I could live with myself if you were hurt again because of those disgusting men out there."

Elphaba nodded and took Fiyero's hand in her own. She led him back to the bed and, without a word, pushed him onto his back on the soft mattress. She smiled at him and he could see the lust in her eyes.

"Fae, is this really wise?"

She leaned her head close to his and he could feel her warm breath on his ear. "Please Yero," she whispered; reverting back to the old nickname for him that she had not used since their time together in the abandoned corn exchange. "Please… you said it yourself – this could be our last night together in a very long time." She ran her hand down his chest, tracing the blue diamonds etched into his skin. "Don't deny me this final pleasure, please?" She was pleading now but she did not care much for such a thing. She wanted him, she needed him, and she felt that she deserved him though she could not say why.

She needed one last night to be just a woman in love, nothing more, and Fiyero did not have the heart to deny such desperate neediness from the green Witch that he never could forget, no matter how hard he tried.


	50. Chapter Forty Nine

_She needed one last night to be just a woman in love, nothing more, and Fiyero did not have the heart to deny such desperate neediness from the green Witch that he never could forget, no matter how hard he tried._

--

**Chapter Forty-Nine:**

She stared at the ceiling because it was easier that way. Easier to not realize what was happening to her. Easier to pretend she was somewhere else. Easier to not remember the family she had left behind.

But it was hard to block out the reality that was her life when the men would hand over dirty bills and push her out the door of cheap rented rooms. She would shuffle down the filthy streets in the cover of darkness until she found somewhere that wasn't too wet or too cold to curl up into a protective ball and find some measure of sleep. When she awoke in the morning she would spend her time in smoke-filled bars and brothels hiding behind the name of a betting parlor as she tried to find another customer – as that is what she thought of them as, just a customer.

She did drugs right before any customer took her away from the bar or brothel because she could not do her job if she was sober. They would take her to some dank room they rented or, if they lived alone, back to their dilapidated shack that they called a home. She did her duty, took her money, than quickly left. Very few words were ever spoken and she did her best not to look the men in the eyes. They disgusted her, all of them, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to kill them on the spot.

She did drugs to do her job even though she knew she was slowly killing the child within her. She couldn't be certain if the small being she carried was Fiyero's or some strange man's who she would never see again. She could not be certain of the timing as she had realized she was pregnant not long after Glinda had kicked her out of the palace. It could be that the last night she had been in the palace had produced the blessing growing within her or the blessing within her was nothing more than a product of one of the filthy men she bedded each night to survive. She simply did not know – and that disgusted her.

One day, nearly five months after being sent to the streets, she heard rumours among the poverty stricken people she was surrounded by that Lady Glinda was to make an announcement from her palace balcony. So she followed the crowds and found herself within the palace gates – as they had been opened to the public for the announcement – and tried to keep herself hidden underneath the hat she had bought with her meager earnings. The hat that was almost identical to the one she had lost within the twisting hallways and many rooms of Kiamo Ko. She didn't dare look up as Glinda stepped onto her balcony for fear of her blonde friend recognizing her.

But the announcement Lady Glinda made caused Elphaba's blood to run cold. It was about her, the green Witch, and how she had succumbed to the sins of the world. It was an announcement that told the people of the Emerald City that anyone caught selling her drugs or buying her time for a night would be imprisoned in Southstairs on the spot. It was an announcement that shattered the way she lived on the street and practically forced her to come back to the palace or starve to death.

She was surprised at the vigor of the anger within her. She was surprised at how much she truly hated Glinda at that very moment. She knew, deep down, that her dear friend, her oldest friend, was only trying to help her but if she was going to heal herself she was going to do it on her terms. But this, this changed everything. This took control away from her life and gave it back to Glinda.

And she simply could not handle that.

So as the crowd left, stunned by what they had been told and murmuring amongst themselves, she stayed. Not because she wanted to but because she needed to – because she found that she could not leave. The palace gates closed behind her and the guards made no attempts at removing her from the private grounds for they knew that this was what Glinda had intended to happen. So they stood back and waited as the blonde public figure disappeared into the palace for a few long minutes before the doors opened and she stood at the top of the stairs. She cleared her throat, to get Elphaba's attention, and the green woman finally looked up from the ground.

"You bitch!" Elphaba spat out. "You send me to the streets and then take away any means of survival I have!"

Glinda's features were soft and her eyes full of sadness. "I am doing what I think is right, for once in my life."

"How shall I make money to eat if no man will touch me for fear of being thrown in Southstairs! I cannot very well change my name and pretend to be someone else – I'm green!"

"I know."

"You're going to kill me!"

"I do not intend to harm you, and I most definitely do not intend to kill you, I simply intend to make your life on the streets as hard as possible in hopes that you will come to your senses sooner rather than later and return here. Return to your home, to your family, to where you belong."

"I was to do that on my own terms!"

"I've lived on your terms for far too long Elphie, and you never got better on your own terms, so now I am enforcing mine."

"You're playing God with my life!"

"I am doing no such thing."

Elphaba frowned and bit her bottom lip to try and distract herself from her anger with pain. She brought her hand up to her face to study the engagement ring she still wore before slowly ascending the steps. She held her hand out to Glinda. "Take it," she whispered but her voice shook with her fury.

"But El–"

"Take it!"

"I don't understa–"

"Take it! Damn it Glinda! Just take the stupid ring!"

Glinda tentatively reached out and slid the ring off of Elphaba's finger. "But why?" she asked. "I don't understand…"

"I'll come back for it one day, when I'm ready. Until then keep it, to remember me by, just in case… well… just in case I never do come back."

"But you will! You have to! For Oz's sake Elphie you're pregnant! Do you think I am an idiot? I can tell, I can see the signs! You're belly has grown and I know it is most definitely not to do with eating too much! You are pregnant and you are killing the child you bear!"

Elphaba's eyes widened and her hand instinctively came up to rest upon her slightly swollen abdomen to feel the child that rested within her. She stared at Glinda in horror, unable to comprehend that her friend could know such a thing, then turned and fled.

She ran as fast as she could, pushing her way through the crowds in the street that still lingered from Glinda's announcement, and darted into the first back alleyway she came upon. She stopped only when she thought she was alone and rested her back against the cold stone wall of some closed bar. She gasped for breath and once again held her hand over her swollen belly as a small part of her still held some motherly instincts towards her possible rape child.

Two months later, in the cover of darkness, the blood came. It rushed from her in a torrent as fierce as the river in Suicide Canal and left her vision blurred and her mind disoriented. She stumbled down the streets in the middle of the night, clutching her stomach in agony, and desperately trying to find either help or somewhere comfortable to lie down and die – for she truly thought that she was going to die. She collapsed to the ground and forced herself to crawl through the terrible pain that seemed to have replaced her blood with acid.

She lost consciousness near the famed yellow brick road. The last image she remembered before the darkness took her was of the cracked bricks and how they seemed so different from when she had been to the Emerald City for the first time in her life – when she had been so very young and naïve and full of so much hope for the world around her. Back then they had been bright and new and freshly washed. Those yellow bricks had seemed like a shiny beacon to her bright new future where she would be loved and adored and would be able to do so much good for those around her.

Now she laid, bleeding and dying, a mere foot away from those dirty and cracked yellow bricks that had once held such promise but now seemed to have been beaten down by life just as she had.


	51. Chapter Fifty

_Now she laid, bleeding and dying, a mere foot away from those dirty and cracked yellow bricks that had once held such promise but now seemed to have been beaten down by life just as she had._

--

**Chapter Fifty:**

There was softness and warmth; something she had not experienced in far too long. She was cold though, despite the thick blankets that were wrapped tightly around her and the fire she could hear crackling in the fireplace nearby.

_The fireplace?_ She opened her eyes, both startled and relieved, to find herself in her room, in the palace. She was confused and unable to remember what last happened to her and what had brought her back to this place. She did not remember what had brought her here or what had caused Glinda to allow her back within these walls and that frightened her terribly.

"You're awake."

She started at the voice and turned her head to place who had spoken to her. "Glinda?" she asked in a breathless whisper; still uncertain if this was real or some teasing dream that she would wake from at any moment.

"You were found by a reasonably moral person unconscious and bleeding upon the street."

"Oh." It was the only word that Elphaba could force out of her constricted throat.

"The child was lost. Born premature and with no one to try and save it. It was dead long before you were found."

Elphaba nodded and closed her eyes so that she would not let her grief show through tears. "I did not mean to –"

"It was all probably for the best anyways," Glinda interrupted. "It was green. As green as grass. As green as sin. As green as you and as Liir's little girl. Not to mention that it's not like you are unfamiliar with abortions, now are you?" The last part was spat out dripping with sarcasm and disgust. "You knew you were pregnant yet still you went on using drugs and drinking, didn't you?" She was screaming now with fury and hatred. "Do you care for nothing but yourself? Is that it? Are you truly just a selfish little bitch who whines and cries when things don't go her way!"

"It could have been Fiyero's," Elphaba whispered as she forced herself to sit up and look at Glinda, facing the blonde's fury head on. "Or it could have been one of many men I bedded while on my own. It was either Fiyero's child or a rape child and I just… not knowing… I could not bring myself to care knowing that it could have simply been a product of rape."

"It's not rape when you're willing!"

"Don't do this… please… don't bring me down this path again. I know what I was, I know what I did, and I know it was rape. Do not try to convince me otherwise because I know the facts and therefore I can accept what has been done to me."

"You aren't accepting anything!"

"You don't know that."

"You're still using the drugs therefore you haven't accepted naught! And you had a choice this time! No one locked you in a room! No one took money from men and forced you to have sex with them! This was all you this time! You walked out of this palace and chose a life of prostitution, of sex, instead of a family! You _chose_ it this time! You chose it because you couldn't give up the damn drugs! You picked the drugs over us! You picked drugs over my love! I just… I don't understand… I don't understand why…" Glinda trailed off and settled on a heavy sigh to end her rant.

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are but it still doesn't change the fact that you chose drugs over me, over us. And that hurts Elphie, it hurts… _a lot_. More than you could ever know."

"What was it?"

The question startled Glinda. "What?" she asked; confused.

"My child, was it a boy or a girl?"

"A girl."

Elphaba sighed. "Of course it was," she muttered, "the girl's never survive."

"Liir only lived because you were in the mauntery, didn't he? Had it been up to you you would have killed him too, wouldn't you have?"

"I cannot be a mother. It is unfair to bring a child into this world that is to be mothered by me for I would fail horribly."

"You didn't fail with Liir and you have certainly not failed with Mirelle."

"I am a murderer through and through. I killed my twins. I killed your first child. I killed Avaric. I killed this child of mine just now. I am a murderer."

"No," Glinda said but her voice lacked the strength and determination it once held when she had talked of her green friend in the past. "I don't think you are, I think the drugs make you one."

"I cannot stay here, can I?"

"I told you before, you must choose the drugs or us. And I think… well… I think you still are not ready to give them up, are you?"

"I don't know if I ever will be."

"I still hold hope for you."

Elphaba sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap. "Do you?" she muttered. "Because sometimes it seems as if you don't."


	52. Chapter Fifty One

_Elphaba sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap. "Do you?" she muttered. "Because sometimes it seems as if you don't."_

--

**Chapter Fifty-One:**

She couldn't do it anymore. She realized that almost two years after her miscarriage. She realized that as she sat in her empty apartment in some dilapidated building attached to the brothel she had given herself over to. She realized that as she stared at the neatly organized rows of white powder upon the dirty and stained floor she sat on. She had a blanket, and that is all she owned besides her one set of clothing and the broom and Grimmerie that were propped up against one corner. The room was perfectly square with an old fireplace that contained no wood and was so clogged in the brick chimney that the smoke would barely find its way back outside. She lit fires in there; fires fueled by magick only that would produce nearly no heat at all.

There was a fire burning, blue flamed only, when she realized that she was done. She stared at the flames as she idly brushed at the drugs on the floor and let them ingrain themselves into the cracks in the wood. She was naked at the moment, finding that clothes were a moot point when most of the people living in the apartment building she was staying at were customers of hers at the brothel. She had no lock on her door, none of the rooms did, but she had stopped caring about such a thing a long time ago. She had stopped caring about everything a long time ago.

Until now. She let her eyes wander down to her hand to see that all of the powder, the only drugs she had left, were gone now – imbedded too far into the cracks of the wooden floor to be retrieved. She let out a sigh and laid down on the hard floor, wrapping her blanket tightly around her to stave off the winter chill that had permanently settled into her brittle bones.

She did not go to work that night and she knew she would pay for it in the morning. She was awoken from her restless sleep by her door being thrown open and two men bursting into her room. She sat up and stared at them, clutching her blanket close to her naked body. She was afraid of them, terrified of what they might do, but she knew she had to pay the price for running from the brothel as she had. No one misses work, not under their watch, yet she had dared to.

One of the men grabbed her hair and hauled her to her feet. She cried out as he struck her with the handle of his rifle in the back of her knees and she fell back to the floor. She was naked before them as the blanket now laid useless beside her. He struck her in the temple and she screamed in pain as he cracked her skull and broke skin. A torrent of blood traced a path down the side of her face and dripped off her chin to the floor. She stared at it as she rested on her hands and knees and tried to catch her breath. A foot was placed on her back and she felt the man's full body weight on her as he pushed her to the floor. She laid on her stomach, shivering and bleeding and terrified, as one of the men kneeled down in front of her and held his gun to her bleeding temple. Her vision was blurred and she swore she had a concussion yet still she tried to focus on him and what he was saying.

"No one leaves our brothel," he spat out; his eyes icy with anger. "Not even the famed Wicked Witch of the West."

"I quit," Elphaba muttered as she closed her eyes. "Do what you intend to do then let me go. I have a life to live and it does not involve this place any longer."

He struck her with his gun again and once again she cried out. The foot on her back moved, releasing her, but she did not dare to move.

They raped her. For nearly four hours they took their turns with her – never letting her move from her place on the floor – until they had tired themselves out completely. One of the men then left but the other remained inside of her, resting. Eventually he moved from her and told her to stand up. She did, not because she wanted to but because she feared what would happen if she refused. Her vision swam and her legs shook with exhaustion and stiffness due to being forced to lay on her stomach for so very long. She watched him as he did up his pants and picked his rifle up from the floor. He pointed it at her and smiled.

"Turn around," he ordered.

She did, slowly. She closed her eyes and prepared herself for the deadly bullet the she knew would come. But instead of hearing the gun go off she heard the door open and the second man re-entered. Then she felt the fiery pain of water against her bare skin and the crack of a metal pail against her lower back. She collapsed to the floor and screamed as the water burned her. The pain and the way it had come upon her brought her mind back to her near-death incident with Dorothy all those years ago. And, just like before, as the darkness of unconsciousness began to swallow her the same words she had muttered in desperation back at Kiamo Ko in front of that silly farm girl she muttered once again in this bare apartment.

Then there was nothing.


	53. Chapter Fifty Two

_Then there was nothing._

--

**Chapter Fifty-Two:**

She awoke to stone floors and a cold room. She was drained of all energy, exhausted, and she tried to focus on where she was. It all seemed oddly familiar yet there was nothing but silence and bitterly cold air.

Then she placed where she was. It was Kiamo Ko. The castle of Kiamo Ko. How did she get here? What brought her to this place? Was it her magick? Was it the Unnamed God? Was it some cruel twist of fate? She struggled to stand, finding herself still naked, and scanned the room. It was her old room, her witch's room, and she simply did not understand. The water should have killed her but then again it had not killed her when Dorothy had sent it upon her.

She left the room and made her way down the winding stairs and twisting hallways, using the walls for support when there were no railings to help her, until she found herself in the kitchen standing face to face with a shocked man.

Liir. Her son. The only child she had truly carried to full term and birthed. Her and Fiyero's son. A part of Fiyero laid in him, and a part of her. She turned and fled but he quickly followed and grabbed a hold of her wrist before she could get very far. She cried out but he did not let go. She struggled to free herself but she was far too weak to do such a thing.

"When did you get here?" he asked after she had calmed down somewhat. "And how? Did you fly your broom? And why are you naked? Where are you clothes?"

"I don't know!" Elphaba screamed and her cracking voice betrayed how close to giving herself over to sobs she really was. "I was in a room and there were men! And they raped me! And they threw water upon me! But… but just like with Dorothy I did not die! I woke up here! I don't know how I got here!"

"Your magick?"

"I don't know!"

"You must!"

"I don't!"

Liir let out a heavy sigh to try and calm himself down and keep his temper and emotions of the past from overwhelming him. "Look," he said; trying to keep his voice level and calm. "We need to find some clothes for you. Perhaps there is still something of yours left here that you can wear."

Elphaba nodded; finding that having a goal, having something to focus on, was incredibly helpful in calming herself down. She let Liir hold her hand and lead her up to her room again. Upon entering she found that her broom and Grimmerie were sitting on the floor near where she had first awoken. She wondered how she had never noticed before.

Liir sat her down on the bed that Elphaba had slept in for so many years and left her there as he made his way to the closet and opened the stiff doors. He searched through the clothes hanging there until he found a dress that was not moth-eaten and covered in too much dust. He pulled it off of the hanger and handed it over to his mother.

"What has happened to you to bring you back here, to me?" Liir asked quietly as he kept his back to her so that she could dress with some measure of dignity left.

"Desperation."

"What did you do to cause these men you speak of to try and murder you?"

"I did not show up to work."

"You didn't show up to work?"

"I worked in a brothel run by two men who did nothing but deal drugs to the most poverty-stricken people of the Emerald City. You do not cross them."

"Yet you did?"

"I could not do it any longer."

"So you came here? To me? To the son you never cared of?"

"I did care for you," she whispered and her words shocked them both. "I just didn't know how to be a mother," she continued. "I just didn't know how to separate you from your father."

"You're a whore."

"And a drug addict."

"But yet you are here, at Kiamo Ko, where you can do neither of those things."

"Will you help me?"

Liir did not respond; he did not even turn around to face his mother. He could feel her desperation radiating from her but he could not bring himself to truly acknowledge her existence.

"Please Liir. I beg of you. Please. Help me. Please. Just… just look at me!"

Liir hesitated for a moment but he finally took a deep breath and dared to face his mother. He could see the tears pooling in her eyes and noticed how frantically she blinked to hold them back. "You wish to become sober, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Can you promise me that? Can you promise that this is the end of your sinful and regretful past?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?"

She stepped close to him, her face mere inches away from his. "Yes!" she screamed at him; desperate. "Please! I need your help!"

"Then you shall have it."


	54. Chapter Fifty Three

_"Then you shall have it."_

--

**Chapter Fifty-Three:**

She was far too thin. Liir realized that as he helped her to wash the filth and dirt off her skin with the oils that still remained in her room from so long ago. He realized that every time he helped her to change. He realized that every time she refused the food he made her. He realized that every time she shivered from the cold and sat as near to the fire as she could bear to.

He struggled to wrap his mind around the pain she felt that had driven her to such despair and desperate actions. He struggled to help her through the debilitating withdrawal that she suffered through. He held her close as she curled up on the old couch in the reading room and tried to stave off her nausea and headaches. He held her close as she tried to keep herself from giving over to the sobs that were constantly at the edge of her throat. And he would wipe the tears from her eyes with a stained cloth before they had the chance to free themselves and burn her skin.

He was her caretaker. She had to be nearing her fifties by now but he could not be sure. Not that it really mattered for her body and soul had aged far more than they should have for her true age. He felt pity for her and more than once he would come upon her with a knife while she was sleeping and struggle against the mercy within him to just end her life and free her from the Hell she lived in.

But he didn't have the stomach to kill his own mother; even if it was for mercy.

So he held her. He held her and listened to her as she rambled on about people he didn't know and the horrible acts of violence and cruelty that the world had thrown at her. And he would smile with her when she spoke of the few happy moments she had had in her life and how she had clung to the memory of that brief joy to keep her going. He would brush off her words when she spoke of how proud she was of him and how she marveled at how he had managed to become such a good person when she, wickedness itself, had been the one to raise him.

He didn't dare tell her that he had raised himself; that she had never truly been there. Instead he allowed her that small measure of pride to grow within her; hoping against all hope that it would help to heal her wounded soul.

It seemed to work, to some extent. As the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, her withdrawal symptoms and desire for drugs and alcohol began to ebb. She still stood at the age of debilitating sobs at nearly every moment of the day and she still spoke in hushed whispers about the pain she had endured but she began to eat again; and Liir was thrilled. As winter faded away and spring began to rear its beautiful head she would take short walks outside the castle's walls and read the Grimmerie every now and then. She talked to the Crows that often rested on the railing of the top balcony; Crows that had never spoken to Liir and that Liir had never known were anything more than regular crows. She found comfort in the cool spring air and the Animal company but every night she still failed to sleep more than a few hours and every few days she would be hit by a nearly unbearable depression that would fuel her desire for some sort of disastrous binge.

But Liir kept her broom hidden and would not let her stray past Kiamo Ko's large brick walls that surrounded the courtyards. He feared for her and the weakness in her spirit that teased her and kept dragging her back to her horrible habits. So he watched her, continuously, no matter how much it tired him. He watched her because he said he would, because he had promised to help her, and he was a man of his word.

"Thank you."

The words were a breathless whisper on the cool breeze. Liir turned to face her and lifted an eyebrow in both confusion and amusement; an expression that was entirely Elphaba in every way. More proof of the fact that they both were indeed related.

"You are not healed yet," he replied; careful to keep his voice calm and measured.

"I never will be. An addict is always an addict. That is just the way it is."

"So I've heard."

"And so it is."

"I never understood, when I was a child, why you were the way you were. The hurt in your eyes. The coldness that seemed to emit from your very being. I never understood why until now. What you have suffered from, I cannot fathom the pain that resides in you."

Elphaba sighed and leaned against the balcony railing; turning away from Liir so that he could not see her eyes as she spoke. "You know more about my past than Fiyero, than even Glinda."

"I don't know if I should be honoured or frightened of that fact."

"Neither do I."

Liir walked towards her and leaned on the railing beside her. "Some small part of me loves you, despite all your failures as a mother, and I cannot figure out why I still feel like that towards you. My mind tells me I should hate you but seeing you like I have – I cannot help but pity and love you."

"I feel the same way towards my own father. He abused me, he raped me, he his dead, yet still I love him. I cannot help it. Perhaps it is just something all humans, even those that are not quite human, cannot help. Perhaps we are all destined to love our parents no matter their faults and wrong doings."

"You are human, through and through."

"I am green!"

"You bleed red, just like the rest of us. You have the capacity to feel – to hurt and to be hurt. That makes you human, just as it makes the Animals human in their own way."

"I suppose."

"There is no supposing, it is fact."

Elphaba let out a short laugh. "If I can see Animals as worthy of the same rights as humans then perhaps I can think of myself as just a worthy."

"I hope so."

"I must have been destined to come here. I must have been destined to see your face one last time before the end of my days."

"I have a feeling that your days are nowhere near ending."

"I wish they were."

"Do you really? You have a family waiting back at the Emerald City. Perhaps you should return there."

"Do you think I'm ready?"

"I doubt you'll ever truly be ready. Like you said – an addict is always an addict."

"Do you think some people are more prone to be addicts than others?"

"I think that those with more pain are more likely to succumb to such sinful pastimes as you have succumbed to."

"I used to wish for a lot of things… now I wish only to be a good person."

"You are a good person."

"I was a horrible mother. I failed the Revolution. I failed the Resistance. I failed at having a family. What is there left for me?"

"You did not fail as a mother. And you have certainly not failed at having a family. They are waiting for you, are they not?"

"They must have given up on me by now."

"They have always cared for you, have they not? What has given you the impression that they would give up on you this time?"

"I fear I was given my last chance. And I fear that I royally fucked it up."

"You will never know unless you return to them."

"I don't know if I can even fly anymore."

"You're age?"

"My spirit. When I am broken, when my soul has been choked of all life, magick is nearly impossible for me to perform."

Liir gently took Elphaba's hand and she turned her head to face him; shocked at the gesture. "Well then," he whispered with a true smile on his face, for once. "We shall just have to fix that, now won't we?"


	55. Chapter Fifty Four

_Liir gently took Elphaba's hand and she turned her head to face him; shocked at the gesture. "Well then," he whispered with a true smile on his face, for once. "We shall just have to fix that now won't we?"_

--

**Chapter Fifty-Four:**

"Are you frightened?"

Elphaba nodded as she stood as far away from the door to her room as she possibly could. "They are coming," she muttered, terrified.

"No one is coming."

"I can hear them!" she hissed out, unable to believe that Liir spoke the truth.

But he did. Her son would not lie. "I do not know what you hear but whatever it is it is not there, it is not here. No one is coming. No one is going to harm you."

"They're not after me, they're after you!"

"I don't understand. No one is here!"

"They're coming!"

"No one is coming!" Liir approached his mother and harshly grabbed her arm. "No one is going to harm anyone!"

Then he heard them; the crowds of angry people in the midst of a civil war. The crowds of angry people that sounded far closer than they should. Liir ran to the balcony of his mother's room to see them marching up the hill to Kiamo Ko. He stared at them in fear for just a moment until he remembered that the draw bridge was not down so therefore there was no way for them to cross the moat. And even if they could they would have to scale the walls first for there was no way that he would open the gated door for them.

"They will find a way in," Elphaba whispered from where she still stood as she was too afraid to look outside and see how many men there truly were. "I can see it. I can see your death. They will find a way in."

Liir turned around slowly to lay a horrified expression on his mother. "You can see it?"

She was looking at him but he could tell that she was not truly seeing him – instead she was seeing this gruesome future that she spoke of. "Most of them do not have guns," she whispered, "but some do. There is blood. More blood than even when Fiyero nearly died so very long ago. And there is pain. I am hurt, hurt terribly, but they do not kill me. They beat you until you cannot stand, no matter how much you fight back. There is too many to protect ourselves, and nowhere to run. You are killed, beaten to death, right in front of me. They mean to make me watch, to break my soul."

"And then?"

"They leave," she said. It was as if she was narrating to Liir something that was happening right in front of her, at that very moment. "They leave me alive. Then there is nothing but stillness and your body beside me, in this very room. And nothing more."

"What happens to you?"

Elphaba went silent for a moment before blinking and finally focusing her sight back on Liir. "I do not know," she muttered, dropping her gaze to the floor. "I can see no more. It ends there, with me bleeding on this very floor and you cold and dead in my arms. They will come, within the week. They will come and you will die."

"No." Liir's voice was demanding, was certain. "We shall go then, and they will not have our lives."

"There is nowhere to go. There is no way to get out. They are here now and they will not leave until you are dead."

"There is the broom," Liir suggested with a hopeful shrug.

"It is damaged, half burnt, and I cannot fly it. I have no desire, no ability, for magick within me."

"The prospect of my murder cannot drive that desire within you?"

"I cannot control it. It comes and goes of its own free will."

"Magick does not have a mind of its own. It is not its own person. It is within you and only you can control it. Do not let it control you for your life is not yours if you allow such a thing."

"And it is not of this world."

"Some would say that you are not part of this world either."

"Of course I'm not. How else could I read the Grimmerie? How else could I do any magick at all? I am not of this world. The Wizard is my true father, not the despicable Frexspar Thropp. I am a child born of both worlds and therefore magick runs through my blood, but not fully."

Liir stared at her in shock. "The Wizard was your father?"

"Is my father. As far as I know he is still alive, spending his remaining days in the Gillikin."

"You hate him, don't you?"

"More than I hate Frex, and Frex abused and raped me. That is far more hate than you could ever fathom feeling within you – burning away at your very being."

"I think I have felt such hate before."

Elphaba raised her head slightly to look at Fiyero in shock. "Truly?" she asked. "Towards whom?"

"I don't think you want to know."

She nodded; understanding that it was how he had felt towards her, his own mother, for so very long. "I see," she muttered.

Liir approached her and went to take her hand in his own but she jerked away from his touch. She never liked being touched after seeing one of her visions – especially one has horrible as the one she had just experienced. He sighed and stepped back slightly to give her room. "I don't feel like that anymore, now that I know what you have suffered through. Now that I understand to some –"

"You could never understand!" Elphaba snapped out. "I don't care what you know of my past you could never understand!" She turned to flee but Liir would not let her escape – would not let her run away – and he reached forward to grab a hold of her. His hand clenched around the nub at the end of her right arm and she cried out in despair as he accidentally but cruelly reminded Elphaba of her gruesome handicap.

She tried to free herself but Liir was too quick for her and he soon had both his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He held her close even as she kicked and screamed and bit him to try and escape.

"Calm down," he whispered directly into her ear. "Please, calm down. I did not mean to upset you. I did not mean to get you worked up like this. Breathe. Please… you must breathe."

But she would not calm down. Instead she began to grow more and more upset and as she did her magick forced itself through her exhausted and weak body and made her warm, nearly hot, to the touch. It became too much for Liir to handle and he was forced to let go of her to avoid the steadily rising heat that was being emitted from her. It was a form of protection in the face of a perceived threat and Liir knew when he could not win. His mother may be weak and ill of body but her magick was still a force to be reckoned with when it chose to present itself.

So he watched her run from him, because he could do no more to keep her near, and he feared for her. She was frantic and agitated and he did not know what to do or say. He had never been by her when she had witnessed a vision and he had no idea of how it affected her – or what he could do to help.

So he waited. He returned to the balcony and watched the army of men set up camp outside the protective walls of Kiamo Ko. He waited there for nearly an hour before he became fearful for his mother and left to find her. And find her he did.

She was sitting, cross-legged, in front of the grave in the back garden that was unmarked and unknown to Liir. There was no grass on the grave, no flowers, and there never had been. As long as Liir had been at Kiamo Ko the grave had stayed as dirt only, no matter how much time had passed by. He did not know who it belonged to but it seemed that Elphaba did, and that this was his chance to find out.

He sat down beside her but kept a safe distant away from her so as not to freak her out. She turned her head to look at him.

"This is Malky's grave," she whispered.

"Malky's? The Cat you always speak of?"

She nodded. "I did something I shouldn't have."

"What?"

She unfolded her right arm from where she held it close to her body and turned it so that her inner arm was plain for all to see. To large and deep wounds ran in a ragged path from her elbow to what remained of her wrist. Liir stared at her arm in despair and grief.

"You shouldn't have done that," he stated.

"I know."

"Yet you did."

"I was upset. It was the only thing that would calm me down."

"Was it?"

Elphaba sighed. "Probably not. It's just… it's the only way I know how."

"That needs to change."

"I know."

"Malky was a close friend of yours, wasn't he?"

"One of the closes I've ever had."

"You miss him, don't you?"

"I miss a lot of people. I miss Malky. I miss Garivon. I miss Nessa. I miss Glinda. I miss Fiyero. I miss Mirelle. I miss Shiz. I miss my innocence. I miss my independence. I miss everything I used to have. I miss my life!"

"You can have it back. You just have to take control over it again. You let yourself go to the drugs and the alcohol, can you not see that?"

She nodded and returned her gaze to Malky's unmarked grave. "I'm sorry… for never being there. I'm sorry for failing as a mother. I'm sorry for failing as a person. Nothing I've done has turned out right. Nothing I will do will ever turn out right!"

"I'm here, aren't I? I'm breathing, and living, and taking up the governing roll that Fiyero should have long ago. Is that not something? I would not have been able to do this, to live my life like this, if not for you. It's true, you were not the greatest mother, but you still gave me life and taught me the difference between right and wrong. Is that not something?"

"I suppose."

"You need to stop supposing things and realizing them as fact, as truth. Why is such a thing so difficult for you?"

Elphaba shrugged and fell silent. "I wonder," she muttered after many long minutes of silence, "how you grew to become such a well adjusted and logical man when I was such a disastrous and bitter mother."

"You had reason to be bitter."

"But that still does not excuse my actions. I should have been a better mother, I should have been a better person."

"How could you have been a better mother when you hardly had a mother yourself and your father did nothing but abuse you? You did the best you could with the means you had, I do not blame you for that." Liir put his hand under Elphaba's chin and raised his mother's head to force her to look at him. She closed her eyes to avoid the sight of him but he was not deterred. "I used to. I used to blame a lot of things on you but now I know the truth behind why you did the things you did and though I don't understand your pain I've come to understand why. And that, mother, is all I need. I've come to terms with my past and I think you need to do the same thing. You cannot change what happened to you or what you did and who knows if you can ever redeem yourself but you must stop torturing yourself over the past. The past is the past, nothing more, and all you can hope to do is make your future just a tad bit better."

Elphaba nodded and brought her hand up to take a hold of Liir's. She held her son's hand close to her face and tried to choke back her sobs. "I wish," she whispered, "that you did not have to die."

"I don't. We'll find away to avoid your vision, I promise you that."

"There is no way. There is never a way. My visions always come true. Always!"

Liir quickly took her in a tight embrace and she buried her head in his chest. It was the only way he knew to calm her down, to keep her from becoming frantic, and it seemed to always work. She had longed for this – her entire life – longed for a true family, someone of her own blood, to care for her and to love her. She had finally found it, with Liir, and the thought that he was to be taken away from her so soon made her heart ache and her soul break just a little bit more. She was terrified of him dying and wished dearly to change the future she now knew would come but there was no way to change it; there never was.

So she let one more piece break apart from her already broken heart because there simply was nothing more left for her to do.


	56. Chapter Fifty Five

_So she let one more piece break apart from her already broken heart because there simply was nothing more left for her to do._

--

**Chapter Fifty-Five:**

The future Elphaba had seen, the future she had been so terrified of, came true three days later. She was startled awake from a light sleep by the Crows she had so often talked to. They warned her, in screeching voices, that the army was almost upon them. Elphaba shot up from her bed and was dressed in a moment. She stuffed the Grimmerie in her satchel and swung the bag over her shoulder before grabbing her broom and running from her room and down the stairs. She burst into Liir's room, waking him, and grabbed his clothes off the chair – threw them at him.

"They are here!" she screamed at him. "Get dressed!"

Liir, in his half asleep state, was too confused to question his mother's words and dressed himself as quickly as he was able to. She threw her broom at him and he caught it, just barely, but had no time to ask her what was going on as she grabbed his other hand and all but dragged him from the room.

"What is going on?" Liir finally asked – his voice was high in both fear and confusion – as his mother dragged him into the reading room. The question caused Elphaba to stop in her tracks and she turned to look at him.

"In minutes that army will be in here and they will kill you. I cannot let that happen. You were right, we will change the future the Unnamed God has laid before us because for one, I do not believe in the ridiculous idea of the Unnamed God, and two, I cannot bear to lose you too. If there is one thing I do right in this world it will be to secure your safety."

"What are you going to do?"

Elphaba dropped to her knees and pulled the Grimmerie from her satchel. She opened it, frantically flipping through pages, and tried desperately to stave away the vision of death teasing the edges of her sight. She eventually found the page she was looking for and instantly began to chant – the room grew hot.

"What are you doing?" Liir asked as he approached her. "What is that spell?"

His question was answered a few seconds later as a ring of blue flames burst around them at the exact same moment the door was thrown open by the army that had resided outside. The angry and screaming men were forced to stop in their tracks or risk being burnt and the whole situation reminded Elphaba far too much of the last time she had been at Kiamo Ko, and how these very men had chased her from the castle then. It was beginning to worry her, how much of her life seemed to repeat itself.

She reached for Lirr and took a hold of his wrist, yanked him down to his knees. "Do not move!" she hissed out as she let him go and once again began to frantically flip through the Grimmerie. She found yet another spell, one that she had written on and changed; one that she had used to use long ago, back when she had been forced into Dorothy's tale. One that she had not used for so very long that she was certain she was no longer strong enough to perform it properly but yet still she had to try. She simply had to.

But she was not fast enough. The men dared to burst through the protective flames that surrounded them and they were upon them both. Elphaba shrieked and instinctively wrapped her arms around her head to protect herself. It was exactly like her vision of three days ago – there were far too many to defend themselves against. Liir tried. He kept forcing himself to stand back up no matter how many times they knocked him to his knees. Elphaba reached for the Grimmerie but at that very moment a gun was placed to her head and all strength seemed to flee her. The fire that had raged around them dissipated into nothingness and everything went deathly quiet and still.

"If you even breathe too deeply I will shoot her," the man holding the gun at Elphaba's temple said to Liir; his voice low but full of fury.

"Go ahead!" Elphaba spat out. "Can you not see the scar that is already upon my temple? I shot myself and did not die! If I cannot kill myself what makes you think that you could kill me? It is futile! I am a Witch and a Witch cannot die!"

She jerked forward just as the man pulled the trigger. The bullet struck her behind the ear but did not penetrate as deeply as it should have. She gasped in both shock and pain and her hand flew up to her head to feel the wound. It was not deep but it was ragged and she knew, just from feeling the entrance, that the bullet had shattered upon striking her. She was left with a large but shallow and ragged wound that began to bleed profusely in moments. She brought her hand away from her head and stared at it. It was soaked with blood.

The barrel of the gun struck her in the back of the head and the last thing she remembered before the darkness took her was the horrified expression plastered on Liir's face as he watched her slip into unconsciousness.


	57. Chapter Fifty Six

_The barrel of the gun struck her in the back of the head and the last thing she remembered before the darkness took her was the horrified expression plastered on Liir's face as he watched her slip into unconsciousness. _

--

**Chapter Fifty-Six:**

_Mother?_

The word was quiet; a faint breeze teasing her. She heard it but did not quite recognize the voice speaking to her. She tried to ignore it because the warm darkness that surrounded her was more comforting than the harsh reality she knew would be welcoming her when she allowed herself to slip back into consciousness.

_Mo… mother? Please… mother… mother!_

That damned voice! Whoever it was was very persistent and growing more and more annoying as time wore on. She just wanted to sleep, couldn't that person see that?

_Mother! Mother! You… you must… please… please help me. Mother!_

Her eyes snapped open as she recognized that the choked and desperate voice was Liir's. Was _her_ Liir's – her son. For a moment there was only darkness and she thought she was blind before her vision began to return to her. Her sight was blurred and fuzzy and she was almost certain she suffered from both a concussion and severe blood loss. It took her a moment to remember what had happened and when she did she become incredibly concerned over how quiet it now was.

"Mother?"

Elphaba turned her head to lay eyes on her son, her only son, her only surviving child. He was crumpled on the floor, folded in on himself, and surrounded by a large puddle of blood. She shakily forced herself onto her hands and knees to find herself in her own pool of blood – though not quite as large as Liir's pool – and had to swallow back the bile tickling the back of her throat. She took a few deep breaths to calm down her racing heart but it barely helped.

"I told you," she whispered; choking back her sobs, "I told you that my visions always come true. Always!"

"Mo… mother… I… I'm not dead… not yet."

"But you are dying."

"Sa… save me."

Elphaba closed her eyes. "I don't think I can."

"Please… please help me."

"I tried," she mumbled to herself. "All I do is try and try and try but nothing ever happens as it should! Fate hates me! Fate wants me to suffer and now you have been dragged into this horrible life of mine! I should never have come here! I should have stayed a whore and an addict until I faded away into nothingness! This damn life of mine! I am cursed!" Her hand balled into a fist and she struggled to keep her breathing level and controlled.

"Mother," Liir choked out. "Mother… please… save me."

"I cannot! I do not have the power! I do not have the skill! I am not a doctor! I am not a healer! I cannot perform miracles!"

"Then… then take me… take me to someone who can. Save me or… or kill me. Please… I cannot suffer like this. The pain! Mother… mother please!"

Elphaba opened her eyes and slowly raised her head to look at Liir. She watched him breathing; crumpled and broken and bleeding. And she made a decision. It was a decision that could kill her, she knew that, but she had to try. For his sake and for her sanity. So she crawled to him, finding that she did not have the strength to stand, and dragged both the broom and the Grimmerie with her. She sat herself down beside her son and opened the Grimmerie back up to the page that she had tried to read before the men had struck her down.

"This… this may not work," Elphaba whispered. "This may end in disaster. But if it works we will be back at Glinda's palace in mere moments. It is a variation of the levitation spell I used to bring my broom to life. It is the spell I used to use quite often, back when I was thrown into the tangled mess that Dorothy created when she came here to Oz."

She began to read. Her voice quiet and shaking. She held the broom in her hand and let it rest gently on Liir's trembling body; the Grimmerie lay in her lap. As she read the words began to turn into a song and her voice got louder, stronger. She felt the magick beginning to swirl within her, concentrating into a large ball of energy within the pit of her stomach. She began to sweat slightly with the effort it was taking her and the sweat stung her skin but she ignored the familiar burning sensation. Breathing became a moot point as she found that she did not have the energy to both perform the spell and make sure she kept breathing. Her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen but she ignored it just the same as she ignored the burning on her skin.

Then the world went black. Liir let out a choked scream in both fear and terrible pain as his body was jerked forward just the same as Elphaba's was. Their world begun to spin around them and colour twirled in within the deep darkness that now surrounded them.

In a few seconds it was over; the world stopped spinning and they found themselves surrounded by red smoke. As the smoke dissipated Elphaba found that they were a crumpled heap at the bottom of the palace steps with the guards staring at them in pure shock. It was nighttime and the world was both hazy and distorted but Elphaba knew that was only due to her own exhaustion and illness. She left the broom and the Grimmerie on the ground – to concerned for Liir's health to worry about such trivial things – and swept her son up in her arms. She struggled to stand; finding that Liir was nearly too heavy for her frail body to carry. But she was determined to save him, she had to, and nothing was going to stop her. She stumbled up the stairs, tripping over her own feet, and the guards did not hesitate to open the doors for her. They could sense that time was not to be wasted with silly questions and procedures so they simply let her enter without a word. She struggled to keep unconsciousness at bay as she made her way through the palace hallways.

She burst through Fiyero and Glinda's door to find her friends, her lovers, her family that she had abandoned, in the midst of some nighttime fun. Glinda screamed in both shock and terror at the intrusion while Fiyero only looked on in horror. They were naked upon the sheets, Glinda beneath Fiyero, and the Vinkus Prince was quick to spring into action. He was standing and at Elphaba's side in seconds, not caring that he wore no clothes or that his lower region was betraying what he had been partaken in moments before.

"You must save him!" Elphaba screeched. "I tried and I could not! Please! I cannot lose him! I cannot lose my son! Save him!" She thrust Liir's limp body towards Fiyero and he took him without a word of protest. Glinda watched in silence as Fiyero gently laid Liir down on the bed beside her and then ran for the door and all but screamed at a nearby guard to fetch the doctor immediately.

Glinda slid from the bed and grabbed their discarded clothes from the floor. She dressed quickly before tossing Fiyero his clothes as he returned to the bedside and he too dressed himself knowing that he could not be so indecent when the doctor arrived.

Elphaba sank to her knees, never taking her eyes of her son, and soon began to hyperventilate. Her concussion and blood loss coupled with the extreme feat of magick that she had been forced to perform to come so far so fast had brought her dangerously close to death's door and she feared that if her son should survive that she would not live to know such a thing.

"Elphie?" Glinda whispered in concern as she kneeled down in front of the green woman that she had not seen far too long. "Elphie… Elphie you're bleeding!" She brought her hand up to just above Elphaba's ear where the bullet had shattered against her skull.

"I could have saved him… I should have saved him…" Elphaba muttered; not wholly conscious of what she was saying. "The vision… it happened just like the vision. I should have stopped them. We should have left. I should have done something!"

"You brought him here… you did the best you could."

"All I do is try and try and try and all that comes from it is failure! Why does everything and everyone I touch always shatter and break! Why!"

"Elphie… Elphie please… you're hyperventilating. You need to calm down!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" She jerked away from Glinda's touch. "Don't tell me –" She stopped mid-sentence as the doctor burst in through the door. Elphaba stared at him as he ran to Liir's side. "Can you save him?" she asked in a mere whisper. "Please… tell me you can save him!" She stood up but the act was too fast and put far too much strain on her already strained body. She felt her heart beat one last time before it seemed to constrict in on itself and then moments later her lungs failed her and her body began to shut down. Her hearing went first, then her sense of smell and touch. She could taste her own blood in her mouth and the last thing she saw before death's hand dragged her into the darkness was the sight of her son, dying, upon the bed.


	58. Chapter Fifty Seven

_She could taste her own blood in her mouth and the last thing she saw before death's hand dragged her into the darkness was the sight of her son, dying, upon the bed._

--

**Chapter Fifty-Seven:**

_The wind tousled her hair as it passed over her. She could feel the tears burning her skin but the handkerchief she held her in her hand stayed useless there as she found that she did not have the strength to wipe the burning water away._

_A hand gently took a hold of hers and she slowly turned her gaze from the empty grave she was staring at to the one now holding her hand. It was Glinda. She smiled at her but Elphaba did not return the smile. Instead she returned her gaze to the grave to find a coffin now being lowered into it. She could not see the body within the wooden casket but she knew who it was._

_Liir._

Elphaba jerked awake from her terrifying nightmare that she was almost certain was one of her horrible visions. She stumbled from her bed, not caring how she had ended up there, and ran from her room. She wore only her thin nightgown but she cared little for such a trivial thing as clothes now seemed to be. She had to find Liir. She had to know he was still alive.

She would not allow her vision to be true. She couldn't. She wouldn't. It simply could not be!

Someone grabbed her arm – a guard – but she pulled free from him and continued down her frantic path. She threw open door after door; wishing for Liir to be in one of the rooms, any of the rooms.

There was noise around her. Guards calling for back-up, calling for Fiyero and Glinda to be fetched, but she hardly took any notice. Just like she did not notice the invisible wall of magick that had surrounded her to keep the guards at bay.

"Fae!"

It was Fiyero's voice. Elphaba stopped and instantly turned on her heal. "Where is he!" she screamed. "Where is my son!"

Fiyero approached her, slowly and cautiously, and the guards formed a small group behind him. Elphaba's subconscious brought her magickal wall of protection down without her even realizing that it had been surrounding her to begin with. Fiyero took her hand gently and Elphaba knew by the look in his eyes that her worst nightmare had come true – that her vision was about to come true.

"He's dead, isn't he?" she whispered.

Fiyero dropped his gaze and took in a deep, shuddering breath. "Yes," he muttered with a small nod.

Elphaba let out a wail that was inhuman in every way. She sounded like a lion cub wailing for its mother. Like a cat crying for its kitten to return to her. She felt the grief well-up inside the pit of her stomach and overtake her entire body. She collapsed, sobbing, against Fiyero's chest. He held her tight as she dragged them both to their knees.

Glinda rounded the corner at that moment to be met with the set of her lover and her best friend huddled together on the cold tile floor. "Oh… oh Elphie…" she muttered as she brought her hand up to cover her open mouth. The sight of her close friend in such despair brought tears to her own eyes that traced silent paths down her fair-skinned cheeks.

She approached them carefully and knelt down beside the two. Elphaba raised her head from Fiyero's chest just enough to lay blood-shot eyes on Glinda. But when she laid eyes on Glinda the vision that had awoken her flashed before her eyes and jerked her back. She cried out, shocking both Fiyero and Glinda, and was soon on her feet and fleeing down the hallways. She ran until she was outside, until she was in the large garden in-behind the palace, until her weakened body could not carry her any further.

She collapsed right on the path she had been running on. She closed her eyes tightly to try and stop her tears but it was to no avail; they escaped her control no matter how hard she tried. She simply could not will them away. Not this time.

She did not understand. She had barely known Liir. She had barely raised him. He was her son but she had never truly let him into her life. So why did his death hurt her so terribly? Would it had all turned out different if she had never gone to him in the first place? Would it have been better, in the end, if she had stayed employed at the brothel and a slave to the drugs? Perhaps not for her but seemingly for everyone else around her.

"Elphie?" Glinda asked quietly as she kneeled down beside the trembling green woman.

"When?" Elphaba asked as she opened her eyes and looked at Glinda. "When did he die?"

"Late last night… not long after the sun had set."

"I had a vision," Elphaba muttered, "when I was at Kiamo Ko with him. It came to me only a few days before those men came. That vision… that vision came true. It was exactly the same, it was identically. He is dead and… and I should have done something! Anything! But I did nothing Glinda! _Nothing_!"

"You did the best –"

"Don't tell me I did the best I could!" Elphaba snapped. "Because I did not! I was afraid! I was terrified! And I let myself be controlled by that damn vision! I wasn't powerless to stop it… I _made_ myself powerless to stop it!"

"Elphie…" Glinda took a green hand in her own and Elphaba did not have the strength to pull away from her touch.

"Never again," Elphaba whispered as she shut her eyes tightly. "Never again! I cannot let this magick within me control me any longer! I wish I could drain it all out of me! It has caused me nothing but problems my entire life!"

"Are you sober?"

Elphaba eyes snapped open to stare at Glinda in shock. "Am I what?" she asked.

"Sober? Are you sober?"

"I… well… yes… I guess so."

"You guess so?"

"Well no… Yes. Yes, I am sober."

"Liir helped you, didn't he? You went to him and he helped you. He… he's the reason you are sober now, isn't it?"

Elphaba nodded. "Yes… but why? Why do you care? What does it matter?"

"Don't you see? You went to your _family_ when you could no longer live your life the way you were living it. Someone from your _family_ helped you. And then when he needed help and you could not provide it you came to _us_. In a way, you subconsciously think of us as your family, do you not?"

Elphaba shrugged. "Perhaps… yes… maybe… I don't know! Just shut-up! Please! I don't have the strength to deal with you right now! Sometimes I just cannot stand your pesky questions! Your need to always be trying to save me! Now is not the time!"

Glinda sighed. "I'm sorry Elphie. I'm so sorry about Liir. We tried, we really did."

"I knew he was going to die before I even brought him here. There was nothing you could do."

"You died, did you know?" Glinda whispered. "You had no heartbeat, you were not breathing. You were dead for almost ten minutes before suddenly you came back to us. We had you on the bed, beside Liir, and the room suddenly went cold and the air became thick and hard to breathe in. It was like you were taking all the energy from the world around us and using it to bring yourself back to life. And then you starting breathing again, and your heart began to beat again. The doctor said it was a miracle."

"It wasn't a miracle," Elphaba spat out. "I am condemned to live this twisted and poisoned life. I am a witch Glinda, I cannot die! I will always survive. Always!"

Glinda did not know what to say so instead she took Elphaba in a tight embrace. She noticed that her old friend seemed to have gained some much needed weight on her tall frame and Glinda was thankful for that but said nothing on the matter for Elphaba had just chastised her on her prodding questions.

The next day Elphaba stood, the cool wind teasing her hair, and tears slowly traced burning paths down her skin. She found that she did not have the strength to wipe her tears away so the handkerchief she held stayed useless in her hand.

A hand took a hold of hers and Elphaba was acutely aware of how this whole situation had turned out exactly like the vision she had had the morning previous. She turned her gaze from the empty grave to look at Glinda, just like in the vision, and – just like the vision – Glinda offered her a small, sad smile.

But unlike the vision Elphaba forced herself to smile back through her tears; forced herself to change the vision even if the change was so incredibly miniscule that it hardly made any difference at all. But Glinda did something then that had not occurred in the vision; she gently pried the handkerchief from Elphaba's hand and, still holding Elphie's hand, used her other hand to silently dab the tears off of Elphaba's face. When the tears were gone they both returned their gazes back to the empty grave to see Liir's casket being slowly lowered into it.

And Elphaba realized, at that very moment, that the tiny change she had made in her vision had caused Glinda to take the handkerchief from her and dry her tears for her. That had not occurred in the first vision. That was not supposed to occur.

"This didn't happen like it did in the vision," Elphaba whispered; her voice choked from her despair and grief.

"It didn't?" Glinda asked. They were both still staring at the grave as the casket settled at the bottom.

"No."

"Is that… good?"

Elphaba turned to look at Glinda and Glinda, realizing that Elphaba was looking at her, turned to face her friend. "Yes," Elphaba replied with a smile. "It means… well… it means I can change them, if even just a little bit. I only wish that I had realized this long ago. I could have saved Nessa, I could have saved Liir. I could have saved a lot of other people. But now I know. And now… now it will never happen again. I promise you this. I promise this world this."

Glinda smiled. "I'm glad," she simply said.

Elphaba returned her gaze to the grave once more. "I'm tired of running away," she muttered. "I always thought that all the problems were caused by my presence in my friends', my family's, lives but now I know that is not the case. All the problems were caused not by my presence but… but from my running away. Running away never solves anything, I always knew that, but I was afraid Glinda. I was _terrified_."

"I know."

"I was so scared of driving the ones I loved away. I was so scared of hurting them, of being the cause of their pain, but running away only caused everyone so much more pain than simply staying and facing my fears ever would have. I was a coward Glinda. Afraid of what I would become, of what I had become, but I'm just so tired of being afraid! I cannot do it anymore. I don't have the strength to fight against myself anymore."

"You were never fighting against yourself – you were fighting against what you thought you were. What you see in the mirror and what we all see is completely different, have you not come to realize that yet?"

"I don't know if I ever will."

Glinda nodded, understanding, and led Elphaba back to the royal carriage. The ride back to the palace was taken in silence with Elphaba staring out the window in silent thought and Glinda watching her in concern. Night began to settle on the Emerald City, casting a strange green shadow upon the city, but Elphaba hardly took any notice of that fact for she was so deeply absorbed in her own mind to realize what was happening around her.

When they finally returned to the palace Elphaba let Glinda take her by the hand and lead her inside. They sat down together on Elphaba's bed and Glinda became concerned by how silent her green friend had become.

"He was my son," Elphaba finally whispered. "He really was my son, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"He saved my life."

"Yes."

"And I repaid him by killing him."

"You didn't kill him."

"Yet I did nothing to protect him, to save him. I let them kill him because I was afraid. Afraid of them, afraid of him, afraid of my own powers. I think… Glinda… I think that I am afraid of myself."

"We all have a little part of us that we are afraid of."

"They say that the wicked's lives are lonely."

"Do they?"

"I have been alone for the majority of my life. Alone and terrified and used. But here Glinda, when I am sitting here, in this palace, I don't feel so alone."

"Then why don't you stay here for a bit?"

Elphaba turned her gaze to Glinda and smiled, but just barely. "I think that maybe… just maybe… I can do that now. If you will allow me to."

Glinda smiled; ecstatic. "Stay right here!" she exclaimed as she suddenly got up and fled from the room. Elphaba watched her leave with confusion plastered on her face but she did not have to wait long for her questions to be answered.

Glinda returned a few moments later with her hands hidden behind her back. She approached Elphaba and dropped to one knee. "Hold out your hand," she whispered, Elphaba did. "You told me you would come back for this when you were ready. I ask you now, are you ready?" She pulled her hands out from behind her back and within them she held a diamond ring on a silver band with a small pink stone set in the diamond. Elphaba recognized it immediately. "Do you think that now you are ready to become Fiyero's wife? To become my wife? To commit yourself to this family, to being our lovers and a mother to little Mirelle?"

Elphaba stared at Glinda in shock and for almost a minute she made no response. Eventually, once Glinda's word had finally registered in her mind, she finally nodded. Her grief over Liir's death ebbed slightly as Glinda slid the ring onto her finger. She stared at it and was silent for a long time; even as Glinda sat down beside her.

Elphaba rested her head on Glinda's shoulder and let her eyes slid shut in exhaustion. Glinda smiled and let herself stare out the balcony door to allow Elphaba time to organize her thoughts.

"I feel like a horrible person."

Glinda stiffened at Elphaba's confession. "Why?" she asked; almost afraid of the answer she would receive.

"Because I feel happy, being here with you. And I feel like I shouldn't, with Liir having just passed away."

"I think he would be glad to see you being able to feel happiness despite the pain within you. I think he would be glad that all the work and love he put into you in the last few months did not go to waste the moment your life become hectic and despairing again."

"Do you think he would be happy for me?"

"I know he would be. I know he is."

Elphaba let out a heavy sigh. "I'm glad to be back. I missed you."

"As did I."

"I was a prostitute you know, even after you passed that law that any men caught using me would be thrown in the Southstairs. It seems that even the prospect of jail did not deter the filth of the world from conquesting the green whore's body."

"I know you were. Word reached me."

"It did?"

"Do you think that we do not have people in all parts of the Emerald City? We need to know what is going on out there… to protect this city's people and ourselves. I might be bubbly and blonde but I am not quite as dimwitted as I used to be back at Shiz."

Elphaba let out a small chuckle. "You could have fooled me."

"That's the point. The less threatening I make myself seem to be the less likely the people will revolt up against me." Glinda smiled. "It might not be the best method of protecting myself but it seems to have worked for me."

"I'm glad for you – to have found a contented way to live out your life. I only hope I can be content here as a simply housewife."

"Are you not still part of the Resistance?"

Elphaba shrugged half-heartedly. "Off and on. When I go to them I am welcomed but they know not to expect me on a consistent basis. I am older now Glinda, and still as green as ever, there is only so much I can do. I am easily recognizable so I cannot participate in most of the activities they partake in and my main job with them is to utilize my magick to help them as much as I can. If they send for me than I will help them but I will not go out of my way to work with them anymore. I have seen too much in this world and been through too much pain to commit myself to such work anymore. I did my part, I sacrificed much of my life for the cause already, and now I am simply tired."

"Such feelings are understandable."

Elphaba nodded. "I want to thank you," she said and her voice had suddenly become quiet with emotion, "for sending me to the streets. I know I hated you when you made that decision and I know you did not mean for me to be gone for so long but you saved me. It took me a long time to realize that and I was angry at you for nearly two years but now… now I'm glad you were strong enough to stand up against me. So… thank you. Thank you for saving my life, for saving me."

"I didn't want to do it, you know. I wanted desperately to let you stay but I knew as long as you were here you would never get better. We were enabling you and I just couldn't watch you dying knowing that you were dying because we failed to save you."

"The guilt would have torn you apart, wouldn't it have?"

"Most certainly."

"Guilt is a terrible feeling, I would know."

Glinda wrapped her arm around Elphaba's shoulders and pulled the green woman closer to her. "Now is not the time to dwell on the past Elphie. You did what you had to do to survive and now it's time to look to the future."

Elphaba nodded. "I know. But a future with no tangible goal to attain scares me. I've always had something to live for each day – whether it was defying the Wizard or working with the Resistance back during the Revolution. There was always something. And now, now there is nothing. And nothing scares me because nothing means I have to look to myself to pass the time. And myself, sober, is not someone I care to spend time with."

"You might find that you're not as frightening as you think you are."

"Or I might find that I am."

Glinda let out a small sigh of frustration. "You might. But you won't know until you try. You must try Elphie… you simply must!"

"I suppose."

Glinda turned her head to make eye contact with her grief-stricken friend. "What are you afraid of?" she asked. "You have been sober for what – a few months now? It is not sobriety that frightens you, is it?"

"My memories. What I have done and what has been done to me. It frightens me to know that I am capable of murder, to know I have been hurt terrible. My life has been nothing but one continuous circle with every event that happens reminding me of something that has happened to me before. I'm scared it will all happen again, because it always does."

"Then let us protect you."

"I cannot stay holed up in this palace, I would go insane with boredom!"

"I'm not saying that, I'm just saying that we can protect you if you just let us. If you can trust us to such an extent."

Elphaba stood up and began to pace, agitated. "Trust is hard for me," she muttered.

"I know. But have we not been by your side your whole life? The both of us, Fiyero and I. We let you go when you decided you needed to be on your own. We took you in when you needed our help. We would have stood up against the Wizard with you if you had only let us but you were determined to protect us. You were determined to keep us away from the filth of the world by taking it all on yourself. You cannot save everyone and the more you tried to more you led yourself to your own death. Let us save you, just this one. Haven't you done enough for everyone else? Isn't it time to look to yourself?"

"I don't know!" Elphaba snapped out as she turned to face Glinda. "I don't know what I should do! I cannot live as I once did but I fear change! My whole life has been pain and hurt and anger and I don't know if I can live as a contented housewife! I don't know if I can ever be content to begin with!"

"I don't wish to jail you within these walls but I fear you slipping back into your old way of life. And I think we can all agree that that simply cannot be allowed."

"If I let the alcohol and drugs take control of me again than that will be it… I cannot free myself from their grasp anymore, I do not have the strength. This is my last chance Glinda and I guess… I guess I'm just afraid that I will fail like I have done so many times before."

Glinda stood up and took Elphaba's hand in her own. "I believe in you. Now you just have to believe in yourself."

Elphaba dropped her gaze to study the grain of the wooden floorboards. "And if I can't? If I do fail?"

"Then we shall cross that bridge when we must. But for now you are here, and you are sober, and all you can do is take it one day at a time. Do you think you can do that?"

"I think so," Elphaba replied with a small nod.

"Good!" Glinda exclaimed. "That's what you need, a little faith in yourself!"

"Don't sound so excited… you'll only be more disappointed when I fail."

"Oh Elphie… please don't say that. You know negative thinking like that isn't going to help you."

"But what if it's the truth?"

"You don't know that!"

"You've given me all the chances in the world and yet always I have stumbled and fallen. What makes this time different?"

"Because you have a home, and a family. You have a future here Elphie! A future that is full of promise and love and care! You don't have to be afraid that you won't have a bed to sleep in, or money to buy food. You don't have to fear starvation or being forced into prostitution to survive. You can live here, carefree and sober, if you just let yourself trust us! You don't have to fear your future anymore Elphie. You don't have to be an outcast. You have a place here, in this home, in _our_ lives. You belong Elphie. For once you belong."

Elphaba raised her head to see blue eyes full of compassion watching her in concern. "I've never belonged before," she whispered. "Throughout my entire life I have been the outcast – the shunned daughter, the green bean, the Wicked Witch. I have never belonged, not even in the Resistance, and I don't know if I can."

"I know you can because you do, right here. You are standing right where you belong. Your life has been full of hardships and despair but it has all led you to where you are now. You are meant to be here, in our lives. I truly believe that with all my heart."

Elphaba sighed and turned from Glinda; walked out on to the balcony of her room. Glinda followed in silence and together they stood side by side looking out over the palace gates to lay eyes on the Emerald City.

"It hasn't all been bad," Elphaba whispered. "There was some good within all the terror and hurt that has surrounded me. And I suppose that if I've felt happiness and love before, even for just the briefest of moments, that I can again. And if it is to be anywhere it might as well be here, right?"

"So will you stay then? Will you really bind yourself to this family?"

Elphaba nodded, slowly. "Yes," she said as a small smile graced her face. "Yes… I shall marry you and Fiyero. I shall be a mother to Mirelle. I'm ready now, I think, to be a wife… to settle down as much as I can."

"Truly?" Glinda asked, shocked.

Elphaba turned to meet Glinda's eyes and the smile on her face only grew as she spoke. "Yes Glinda. Yes, I truly am ready."


	59. Chapter Fifty Eight

_Elphaba turned to meet Glinda's eyes and the smile on her face only grew as she spoke. "Yes Glinda. Yes, I truly am ready."_

--

**Chapter Fifty-Eight:**

They laid together upon her bed; Elphaba snuggled comfortably against Fiyero's body. They had fallen asleep a few hours earlier after a tiring night in which they had slept little and instead partaken in passionate acts to catch up for the time they had been separated. As a result they had fallen asleep during the early morning light and still slept even as the day begun to pass them by.

Elphaba was suddenly jerked awake as Fiyero suddenly sat up, gasping for breath, and sweating. She noticed almost instantly that her hand stung from where his sweat had burnt her slightly as her hand and arm had rested on his bare chest as they slept.

"Is something wrong?" she asked sleepily as she slowly sat up.

Fiyero did not reply. Instead he slid of the bed and went to the bathing room where Elphaba heard the water running. He returned a few minutes later and sat down on the edge of the bed. Elphaba shuffled near him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, set her chin down on his shoulder but found she quickly had to pull her head away.

"You're face is wet," she stated; bringing her hand up to gently rub her cheek which had touched the side of his face.

"Sorry," he muttered but he seemed distracted.

"What woke you?"

"Nothing."

"You had a night terror, didn't you? And don't say you did not. I've had my share of my own, I know the signs of them."

Fiyero shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"Something's bothering you. I'd like to help if I could."

"You cannot help yourself! How could you help me?"

Elphaba sighed and pulled away from him. "There's no need to be cruel," she whispered.

Fiyero stood up, slipped on his underwear, and walked out to the balcony; Elphaba joined him with the blanket from the bed wrapped tightly around her naked body. "You're not going to shake me so easily," she said as they stood beside each, leaning against the railing.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with."

"Is it the Southstairs?"

Fiyero sighed but made no response.

"It is, isn't it? What happened there? What did they do to you?"

"It's not what they did, it's what they made me do."

"To whom?"

"I saw bad things there Fae. Innocent people, innocent women and children hurt for no real reason. The Guards there were men drunk on power."

"We all have evil within us."

"Do you truly believe that?"

"Yes. There is wickedness in everyone. The difference between people are those who give in to the evil and those who fight it their entire life."

"They held guns up to young girl's heads!" Fiyero suddenly snapped out. "And they told me to rape them or else they would kill! What was I to do? I couldn't let them die!"

Elphaba kept her voice level and quiet as she spoke so as not to let her initial disgust over what Fiyero had done creep into her words. "We have all done bad things in our lives. And if you seek to make this into a competition on whom has done worse in their life I will clearly win. You might have raped Fiyero but I have murdered countless amounts of people whether by accident or not. The Revolution was violent when I was involved for violence is often the only way to get society to see their wrongs and change them."

"I don't think you understand, I raped women! Children! Of all the people who would understand the disgust in that I thought you would!"

"When their life is at stake one will find that evil is easier to succumb to and morals seem to flit away. Do you think I ever wanted to become a prostitute? Never. But I would have frozen or starved to death. It killed me inside every time I took a man to bed but I survived. You made an impossible choice but your choice led to survival, for both you and those women. Was it the right choice? Who knows? But right and wrong is not so easy to separate."

Fiyero looked to Elphaba, saw her in a new light – or an old light, he couldn't be sure. "I missed this," he said, "this ability of yours to find a reason behind every action, every word. And not just a fleeting comforting reason but a true and logically reason. You can explain the world around us in a way I never thought possible. You lost that before, when you were on the drugs and alcohol, and I missed that."

"This world can never be explained, not in full, but humans are not so hard to understand."

Fiyero smiled and took Elphaba by the hand, led her back to the bed. "Glinda said you agreed to marry us, are you truly ready for this?"

"I believe so," she replied as they curled up together on the bed once again.

"Do you really think you'll be content to live the rest of your life within this palace?"

"Probably not but knowing me I'm sure I'll find some cause to fight for again. I usually do."

"Glinda always speaks about want to help those driven to prostitution to survive but she seems unable to find a way to start. Perhaps you two could join forces and try to find a way to help them?"

"Perhaps. But most of them are just little girls with no family left to help them. They are bitter and proud and helping them will be near impossible. I mean, at first we'd have to get them to admit that they are prostitutes to begin with and that would be a feat in-and-of-itself. I would know. It took me a long time to admit that that was what I was. Even now, the word seems cold and harsh and I'd rather not speak of it if I can."

"They're orphans, most of them, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps there is a way to help both people, the orphans and the prostitutes. Perhaps some sort of safe house, a place where young orphan children can come for food and a warm bed. And a place that prostitutes can also come for the same things, without fear of judgment. It would be good for them to have a place to come to when they can no longer survive the way they are. And if you are there, perhaps that would make them more comfortable because they will know that you know, and that you will understand. And you can show them that there is hope, that their lives do not have to stay like they are. And perhaps, maybe, it would be good to pair an orphan with a prostitute. To give those women something to latch onto, a child that needs them. Maybe all they need is some direction in their lives and a child that looks to them for guidance and care might be just what they need."

Elphaba propped herself up on one elbow and looked at Fiyero in shock. "Sometimes," she murmured, "you're words shock me. There is a brain inside that little head of yours, isn't there?"

"I was raised to be the ruler of the Vinkus," he replied offhandedly. "I am not as dimwitted as I often lead people to believe."

Elphaba nodded and laid back down; resting her head on Fiyero's chest. "All you can do is try to be a good person," she said as she let her eyes slid shut. "What happened in the past, what you did and what was done to you, cannot be changed but it cannot be allowed to be forgotten either. You must learn from the past, or else it will only repeat itself. I always tried to block my past out, to forget the bad done to me and the bad I did, and all my life ever did was continue in its own despairing circle. I've learnt my lesson now. I was raped, time and time again by scores of men. Men I trusted and men I did not. I was beaten and hurt and broken down but I kept ending up back in the same place because I refused to let myself accept what happened to me. I never changed because I was afraid, and I didn't know how to change. And sometimes the routine is more comforting than the prospect of change and the fear it brings. I thought that abuse and rape and being used was all I was meant for, was all I could do in this world, but I've seen that there is more to me. I just have to believe."

"And you think there can be more to me?"

"If you let go of your anger and your bitterness of what you were forced to do. You raped women Fiyero, and children, and that is a horrible act. You could never understand how you hurt those women but you did not rape because you wanted to, because you find some sick sexual pleasure in taking a woman for your own possession. You raped because you were forced to, and those women you raped know that. Which makes it different than what was done to me. I cannot understand such an act for what was done to me was an entirely different situation. Men wanted me because I was green and strange and different. You did not want those women, you were forced upon them. Your choice allowed them to live, which is something."

"But what kind of life will they have knowing that they have been violated in such a way?"

"They will have the life they choose. They will either accept it and move on or they will dwell on it and be bitter. But that is not your choice, that is theirs, and you cannot blame yourself for their choices just as I cannot blame myself for my father's choice to beat and rape me. Or those men's choices to pay for a night of my body. Or the Wizard's choice to label me the Wicked Witch. Or Dorothy choice to attempt to kill me to find her own way home. You cannot control other people and their actions, we can only control ours. And I tried Fiyero, I tried _so damn hard_ to change others but you cannot, not really."

"So people cannot change?"

"They can learn and grow and change in their own time but we cannot force them. Knowledge brings change, and that is all that can change people. We cannot force others to change, we can only teach them what we know and hope. That was the goal of the Revolution, to use violence to teach knowledge and to invoke change. It failed though, in the end, because violence breeds fear, not knowledge. That is why the Revolution became the Resistance and as the Resistance it succeeded far more in its goals."

"Have you changed?"

"I haven't changed, I just finally became myself again. I was searching my whole life for acceptance and love from others without ever realizing that what I should have been searching for was my own acceptance and my own love for myself. It was beaten out of me when I was a child and I finally just found it now, while being here. You cannot love others without first loving yourself."

"I can't say that I love myself."

"You must, to some small extent, because the love you show towards myself and Glinda is terribly strong and sometimes I fear that I don't have the strength to give you such love in return. And I hope you can forgive me for that, because I'm still learning, but hopefully one day I can."

"How can I love myself after what I have done?"

Elphaba sighed and propped herself up on her elbow again. She stared into Fiyero's eyes, willing him to understand. "You can love yourself even if you do not love all the things you have done. After all, if you can love me for all the shit I've put you through than you can love yourself. Do you love all I have done?"

"No."

"Yet you still love me, right?"

"More than I have ever loved another. More than I thought possible."

Elphaba smiled at that; blushing slightly. "So you know then, that you can love a person without loving or accepting all that they have done. If you can do that for me than you can do that for yourself, if you just let yourself. And you might find that your trouble with your anger and with your drinking might diminish the more you learn to love yourself. It's hate that brings upon such actions. I would know, I hated myself for a very long time."

"Is that what bread your addiction to drugs and alcohol and self-harm? The hate towards yourself?"

Elphaba nodded. "Yes," she whispered as she sat up and perched herself on the edge of the bed, her back towards FIyero. "I hated myself because I connected my desperate actions to survive as who I was. I was a whore in my mind, and that was all, and I hated myself because of it. I was a failure and a whore. But I'm beginning now to understand that what I did as desperate survival does not mean that that is who I am. I am not a whore, no matter how many times I have been told such a thing. I am Elphaba Thropp – a green women who was forced into desperate actions to survive but who, ultimately, did survive. I am a survivor really, not a whore." Her voice shook at the end and Fiyero could hear her own desperate need to believe herself in the words she spoke. "And you need to believe the same thing," she continued. "You need to believe that you are a good person, because you are."

"Do you believe you're a good person?" Fiyero asked. He desperately wanted to hug the green woman before him; to hold her and comfort her. But he knew she did not want such a thing, he knew that she would not welcome any form of human touch at the moment. She was vulnerable now, and he knew that she hated being so vulnerable no matter who she was with.

"I believe that I can be a good person," she muttered. "But I don't believe that I'm quite there yet. But this, this place and this family, this is just another step towards being a good person. And the drugs, the alcohol, the self-harm, that only held me back. I want to be a good person, I want to be someone worth remembering, and I believe that slowly I'll get there. It just… it will take time. All change takes time."

"I think you're a better person than you believe that you are," Fiyero said as he sat up and stared at Elphaba's naked back. He examined the curve of it, the prominent bumps of her spine that ran down the length of it. She had gained weight but she was still unnaturally thin and he knew she always would be. It was just part of who she was. She would always care for others more than she cared for herself.

"And I think the same of you," she said as she turned to look over her shoulder at him. "Which is good, I guess, that we believe so much in each other."

"Is this strange to you, to have a relationship with someone that is positive and not negative?"

"Yes, but I suppose that that is good, in its own way."

"I'm sure it is."

Elphaba smiled and laid down on her back so that her head rested on Fiyero's lap. "Now, why did you put your underwear back on?" she asked as her smiled turned into her customary smirk.

He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. "Do you want me to take them off?" he said in-between kisses that traced down the curve of her neck.

Elphaba's back arched slightly as desire began to build up inside of her. "I think I can manage on my own," she muttered as she let her eyes slide shut and she felt Fiyero shift underneath of her so he could more easily reach her still-naked body.

"Really?" he asked, mockingly, as he moved his kisses down her chest. "You seem pretty distracted at the moment." He moved himself so that he straddled her legs and brought his mouth down to her most private area but as he did Elphaba's eyes snapped open and she jerked away; once again impeding Fiyero from doing anything more to her than simply sex.

And for once Fiyero let his frustration overtake him. He looked up to Elphaba to find that she was not looking at him and instead was staring at the ceiling.

"Why?" he asked. "Why are you so insistent on this?" It annoyed him, even though she knew she had her reasons, because he knew how he could make Glinda feel with the use of only his mouth and he desperately wanted to show Elphaba the same feeling but she would never allow it.

"You don't understand," she muttered as she closed her legs together, not letting him see her down there in the daylight. "I'm not like Glinda, I'm not like Sarima was, and I think you've forgotten such a thing."

Fiyero crawled towards Elphaba and laid down beside her. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You know that little part of a woman's body, that little nub that can bring such pleasure to a woman?"

"Yes."

"I've sure you've found such a way to pleasure Glinda greatly with it and know you wish to show me the same feeling. Well I'm saddened to tell you that I do not have such a part to my body."

Fiyero looked at her in confusion. "Were you just not born with it?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I was," she whispered, still staring at the ceiling.

"Then what –"

"Do you not remember Shiz?" she interrupted but she did not give him time to answer as she continued, "I was circumcised there, remember? But I was not simply sewn shut. That part of my body that could have given me so much pleasure was removed, was cut off to put it bluntly. It is gone and even though I was cut open again that part of my body is gone forever."

"But why would they do such a thing?"

"Circumcising a woman is not meant simply to stop her from having sex at all. It is meant to remove any pleasure in the act so that she will not want such a thing."

"Why didn't you tell me this before? Instead of making me wonder if it was something I was doing that was making you not want me to do anything else besides just sex."

"Because I was embarrassed."

"But why? It isn't your fault."

"Because I just am. Just like I am embarrassed by my missing hand. I am disfigured Fiyero. It is a fact and a… a physical reminder of my failures in life. It is hard, to know that physically I am not the same as other women. And not just because of my green skin."

"But that is what makes you special. It's what makes you Elphaba, what makes you Fae. You _are_ different, and that's why I love you."

She turned her head to look at him and smiled. "And that's what makes you such a good person," she whispered; her voice choked with emotion. "This ability of yours to look past the weird and the different and the strange to see what is within the person. You can love Fiyero, in a way that is unconditional and a way I don't think I will ever truly understand. But I love you for that. I love you because, despite it all, you can still love me."

"You showed me I could be something Fae, back in Shiz, and I will never forget that. Without you I would be nothing, I would have accomplished nothing, and I would have continued to just flit through life on the coattails of people more determined and driven than I. I am who I am because of you and I wouldn't change that for anything."

"I'm happy then, for you and Glinda, for the fact that I, in some way, helped to shape both of your lives into something worthwhile. It is more than I ever expected to be able to do. But I'm glad for it."

Fiyero shifted himself so he laid on his stomach and stared at Elphaba. From his angle he saw mostly her neck and chin and little of her face. He entwined his right hand with her left and rested his chin on the bottom of her ribcage; just below her breasts. "We have all changed each other's lives. We are a group of three, a chain that cannot be unbroken when together but is so fragile when one of the links is missing. We belong, we just do, and I can feel it."


	60. Chapter Fifty Nine

_**Author's Note: **And here we come to the end. It has been a long journey that I hope you have all enjoyed. Thank you to all who have read and to all that have reviewed! If it weren't for the readers there would be no reason for us authors to write! I do intend to write more in the Wicked fandom but for now I am taking a break. I will work here and there on Forbidden Secrets and The Porcelain Doll but for now my main focus is on an original novel I am currently writing. I hope you all have enjoyed this story and I hope the ending that I have written is fitting for what I have tried to accomplish through the development of Miss Elphaba Thropp, Miss G(a)linda Upland, and Mister Fiyero Tiggular both as individuals and as a group. So enjoy! And if you so desire one last review would be greatly appreciated! ;)_

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"_We have all changed each other's lives. We are a group of three, a chain that cannot be unbroken when together but is so fragile when one of the links is missing. We belong, we just do, and I can feel it."_

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**Chapter Fifty-Nine:**

It was white-cream. It was dark white chocolate. It was day-old snow white. It was white, but not white. It fit her perfectly. Hugging her body close but flowing away just enough to hide that she was still a tad too thin for her tall frame. It had no trail, no large and overly-fluffed skirt. The neckline was low but did not dip down too far to be scandalous. The sleeves were full and long; the cuffs hitting just before her thumb and giving the illusion that she was not missing her right hand. It had a tiny amount of embroidery, in silver thread, on the neckline and down the sleeves.

It was the perfect wedding dress. White, as Glinda had wished for, but not so white as to clash with her green skin. It was the dress she would have dreamed of, if Elphaba had ever been one to dream of her wedding day.

"I didn't think you'd be able to do it," Elphaba said as she stared at herself in the mirror. She felt, dare she say, beautiful, and it was a feeling she found to quite enjoy.

"I thought you would know by now that when it comes to fashion I am the one to put your faith in," Glinda called out through the bathroom door.

Elphaba smiled at that. "I cannot believe I doubted you but here I am and I cannot lie… I feel like a bride. Which I guess is what I ought to feel like on a day like today."

There was silence and Elphaba frowned, wondering why Glinda did not reply. But then she heard the bathroom door open and in the mirror she caught the sight of her friend stepping into the room to join her. The image of Glinda made her breath catch in her throat and for a moment she swore she could not breathe. Then Glinda walked to her, stood beside her, and took a hold of her green hand.

"Do you like it?" Glinda asked, her voice a mere whisper as if she feared that Elphaba would not approve of the dress she had picked out for herself. It was pure white and the colour seemed to make Glinda's skin transparent. It had the same silver embroidery as Elphaba's dress but it was strapless, with a heart-shaped neckline. It pinched in at her waist only to seemingly explode outwards into a skirt that was full and pleated with silver embroidery all along the hemline.

"It's… it's breathtaking," Elphaba stammered out. "Glinda, I haven't seen you like this in so very long. It's almost like Shiz all over again."

Glinda's face beamed in both relief and joy. "I put my hair up in a loose bun but I don't know what to do with yours. Putting it up wouldn't seem like you but leaving it down as it is doesn't seem fancy enough for such an occasion."

Elphaba shrugged, still finding it hard to breathe much less speak. "Oh… oh Glinda," she muttered as she felt tears prick the corner of her eyes. "Glinda, this is it, isn't it?"

Glinda nodded as she let go of Elphaba's hand and pulled out a few bobby pins from within her bosom. "Close your eyes," she instructed her friend and Elphaba obliged. She felt Glinda's hands in her hair; tugging at it and manipulating it. After a few minutes of this silence Glinda stepped back from her friend and smiled.

"What do you think of this?" Glinda asked; speaking of what she had done to her friend's hair.

Elphaba opened her eyes to see what Glinda had done to find that her hair was left almost all down but most of the pieces in the front had been pinned back save a few that Glinda had left loose. It was utterly her but only more fancy, more elegant. "It's perfect," she whispered.

"Except for one last detail," Glinda said as she turned to the nearby dresser. "I know your ears are not pierced for you've never had any real need to be fancying yourself up with earrings so I thought we could wear these instead." She turned back around to gently clasp a delicate silver pendent around Elphaba's neck before clasping an identical necklace around her own neck.

They stood side by side in front of the mirror again. Their dresses a perfect match and yet entirely different – reflecting exactly how their friendship had turned out. They were complete opposites save for a few identical personality features and yet somehow they had forged a bond so strong that nothing could tear them apart. And the world had tried, had tried so terribly hard, to break apart their friendship yet here they stood – side by side – just minutes away from the moment that would bind them together forever.

"I never imagined I would be standing beside you in a wedding dress," Elphaba whispered. "I never thought anyone would ever want to marry someone like me. But I guess, after it has all been said and done, that there are a few redeeming features to me, isn't there?"

"More than a few."

Elphaba smiled and turned to face Glinda. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for this, for us, for giving me back my life. For giving me something to live for."

Glinda took Elphaba's hand in her own. "And I thank you just the same. But today isn't a day to remember the past, it's a day to celebrate the future. Come, we should be going. They are waiting for us and the church is still a carriage ride away."

Elphaba nodded and let Glinda lead her through the palace and as they opened the doors they found a crowd standing outside the gates. It seemed that all of Oz had come to see the two brides make their way down the stone steps and into the carriage. And for once the people did not scream and shout and curse the green Witch. Instead they clapped and cheered and shouted words of joy and wishes for a great future. It seemed that, in the end, even the people had come to accept the strange green woman that lived among them.

As Elphaba sat down beside Glinda in the carriage, as they rode through the streets to shouts of joy, she realized that for the first time in her life she did not feel like an aberration. She felt loved and accepted. She felt part of this city, of this land, of a family, and of something greater than she could have ever imagined. She held Glinda's hand and for the first time in a long time she looked forward to her future; to what she could now accomplish in this; the last leg of her life. Today was a new beginning, was a new story, where her past would no longer haunt her. She was a different person today and she was about to start a new tale.

She was Elphaba Tiggular now, and she couldn't be happier.

**The End**


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